The Klaine Train
by OnceUponASam
Summary: Post civil-war cowboy times. Kurt and Mercedes are riding on a train from New York to Lima when Blaine and the Warblers rob the train and kidnap them! Rated M for a smutty scene in the future.
1. Complications

_A/N: Inspired by watching the ridiculous Jonah Hex. _

_Enjoy, reviews are love, blah blah blah. _

* * *

><p>Kurt looked out the window of the train at the fields flying past. Miles after miles of long grass blowing gently in the wind. He was going to visit his parents after a year away at school in New York, and it was a long train ride from Manhattan to Lima, Ohio. He and his best friend Mercedes were settled in for the ride, sipping coffee in a first class train car. He let the fields blur as he stared out the window, thinking dreamily of Carole's cooking and his dad's bear hugs and Finn's innocent humor. Oh, wait. <em>Sheriff <em>Finn nowadays, wasn't it?

He was snapped out of his reverie by Mercedes.

"Boy. Look at that." He followed the finger she was pointing out the window to see about twenty figures, riding on horses alongside the train. "What're they doin'?"

Kurt looked closer. There was a flag tied to one of the horses necks...a navy blue flag with only a yellow bird on it.

_Damn. _

"It's the Warblers," Kurt whispered, his stomach dropping in fear.

"What?"

"The Warblers," Kurt said more loudly. He stood up. _"The Warblers are coming!" _There was a collective gasp, the other passengers looking about in fear. Then, a brief pause, a few seconds of calm before everything went to hell.

The women began to scream, and fathers grabbed for their guns. Babies began to cry. The conductors tried desperately to calm everyone down, but nothing was working. They only added to the noise. Kurt grabbed Mercedes's hand and dove under a table. She stared at him, wide-eyed, as the chaos continued around them.

"Why are they here? Why now?" she moaned softly.

"We must have something they want," Kurt said, closing his eyes tightly in fear.

The Warblers were a gang, ruffians with a reputation of robbing trains and causing general chaos. They never killed and they never took prisoners, but for some reason, they carried with them an aura of complete terror. Everyone knew them, and everyone feared them.

There was a loud, sudden crack as the window above them shattered. Glass rained down over their hiding place and they covered their eyes, hearing a clunk when a pair of boots landed on the ground in front of them.

"Everybody get quiet," a smooth voice said. It was a calm, soothing voice, and Kurt could hear the man smiling when he said, "All right. Y'all stay calm and we'll make this easy for everybody." Kurt craned his neck, trying to get a better look at the owner of the voice. All he saw were a pair of worn boots and some very tight jeans.

Skin tight.

"First order of business," the voice said lazily, a grin in his voice. He was having _fun _with this. "Laaaaaadies. Empty those little purses of yours. Pass 'em over to my friend here, if you will." Kurt peeked his head out, his eye finding the man the first man had been talking about; a tan, Asian man with perfect black hair that Kurt couldn't help admiring, even in the present situation. Kurt tried to catch a glimpse of the man that appeared to be running the show, but he couldn't without revealing himself to the thieves. He withdrew his head and grabbed Mercedes's hand in his own, exchanging a look of worry with her. As long as they didn't search the train, they'd be fine.

There was a series of tinkling noises and even a few quiet sobs as the women poured their purses into the large bag the Asian boy was holding.

"All right now. Second order of business..." he paused, snatching a half-full glass of something on a table and draining it. "...we're lookin' fer somethin'. Somethin'...valuable." He waited, looking around the silent room. "Do any of you know what it is I'm talkin' about?"

Silence. The man sighed.

"Well, I'll just tell you. There's a chest. A veeeeeery...special chest. And we know it's somewhere around here. Anybody wanna tell us where it is?"

Again, silence. Kurt could practically _hear _him shrugging nonchalantly. "I guess we'll just have to _look for it, _then, won't we, boys?" His voice rose on "look for it" and, as if on cue, the Warblers spread out, chattering amongst themselves. Kurt stifled a gasp. They were going to search the train. Damn his luck. He looked around frantically for a way out, and none appeared to him.

"Mercedes," he hissed. "Hide your purse if you want to keep it." She bit her lip, thinking for just a second before she shoved the small coin purse down the front of her dress.

The search only lasted for a few minutes before there was a cry. _"We've got it!" _

Two men leaped through the door, carrying a chest between them. It was covered in a sheet. Kurt peeked out in time to see a dark-haired figure rip the sheet off. Before he could wonder who the figure was, his eyes went to the chest. It was covered in jewels, a giant gold lock attached to the front of it. Just above the lock, in curling embossed black letters, there was one word. A name.

**_Jones. _**

Kurt turned to his friend. Mercedes Jones. Could it be? No...Jones was a common name, wasn't it? It couldn't be. But when he turned to look at her, she was staring at the chest with obvious horror in her eyes, her bottom lip clutched between her teeth. Her knuckles were white where they gripped fistfuls of her dress.

"Mercedes?" Kurt inquired quietly. "Is there something you need to tell me?"

Her eyes flicked to him briefly, then back to the chest. She said nothing. The dark-haired man turned around, and Kurt caught a glimpse of his face. The first thing he noticed was eyes. Bright, green-gray-brown _hazel _eyes, framed by thick eyebrows. His curly hair fell wildly around his face and neck under his cowboy hat, a tiny half-smile upon his perfect, full lips. He wore a plaid shirt and a vest, the top few buttons unbuttoned to reveal the tiniest bit of dark chest hair. His shirt was tucked into his tight jeans.

Kurt was _not _into bad boys and he _certainly _wasn't into criminals, but _damn. _

Mercedes. Think about Mercedes. "Hey," he said, poking his friend, "I _said, _is there _something you need to tell me?" _

"Not now, Kurt," she hissed in an uncharacteristic show of hostility. He stared at her, surprised and offended.

The one with the pretty eyes was examining the lock. A few minutes passed. He turned, addressing the room again.

"There's a key. Time's running out before we leave you lovely ladies and gents, so I'd appreciate it if you would surrender the key quietly."

Kurt looked at Mercedes, his eyes wide. She glanced down at where her purse was hidden. Was the key inside?

"Blaine," hissed the Asian boy. "We need to go. Now." The one named Blaine swept his eyes over the room. His hazel eyes turned dark, and a shadow fell over his face.

"Time's almost up," he murmured in almost a singsong voice. Then, in one swift movement, he pulled a pistol from his belt and pointed it at the air, causing several people to scream. "And I don't think any of you wanna know what happens when it completely runs out."

"Mercedes," Kurt whispered frantically. _"What do we do?" _

"I dunno. I dunno," she moaned, her eyes wild.

"What's in that chest, Mercedes?"

"I don't know! I was just...I was just taking it to my parents-I never unlocked it...I never...I wasn't allowed near it. They had other people dealing with the chest...I'd never actually seen it. I was just supposed to carry the key!"

Kurt patted her arm, squeezing briefly. "It's gonna be okay."

"You have thirty seconds!" Blaine called. "I don't have all day."

Mercedes and Kurt looked at each other, hearts racing.

_"WHAT DO WE DO?" _Kurt repeated.

_"I don't know, I don't know!" _Mercedes cried softly.

"3...2...1!" Blaine yelled. "Your time is officially up." He scanned the car. He had had the boys gather everyone in here at the beginning. There wasn't anyone missing. So why hadn't this Jones person stepped forward, whoever they were? Didn't they know how serious he was?

Apparently not.

He didn't want it to come to this, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

He swung his arm out and grabbed a little girl sitting near him. She screamed, an absolutely heart-shattering scream. He pretended not to waver and lifted her to his chest, pressing the cold barrel of the pistol into the side of her other boys stared at him in shock.

_"I SAID, YOUR TIME IS UP!" _Blaine screamed, his voice not even shaking. His hands trembled a little, and he was very careful not to press the trigger too hard. One slip, and the adorable little girl in his arms...

_"Mercedes!" _Kurt cried at the same time the little girl's mother screamed. Then he smacked his hands over his mouth. Had they heard him?

As if answering his question, a hand ripped up the edge of the tablecloth. A freckled face grinned at them.

"Hello, ladies," he said. Kurt glared fiercely at him when the boy tried to grab his arm.

_"Don't _touch me," he snarled, crawling out from under the table in as dignified a way as possible. Mercedes followed, unwillingly.

"Which one of you is Jones?" Blaine asked. Kurt's eyes were fixed on the little girl sobbing softly in his arms. He couldn't believe he thought of this man as attractive. Even for a second. This man was _sick. _Disgusting. Kurt glanced at Mercedes. She closed her eyes, then stuck her chest out in a perfect "diva" pose.

"Me," she said confidently, stepping forward. Blaine couldn't help feeling a little disappointed. The boy next to her was _gorgeous, _and even in the current situation he couldn't help noticing the graceful way he stood and moved. He was just beautiful.

"Give me the key," Blaine demanded quietly. Mercedes reached into her dress and started to retrieve her purse when one of the boys yelled,

"Blaine, we need to go, now!"

"Hurry up!" Blaine yelled. Mercedes only went slower. Blaine let out a noise that sounded like a growl and snarled desperately. "Just take her with us."

"But...we don't take prisoners!"

"DO IT!"

Kurt screamed, latching onto Mercedes's arm.

"What the hell?" cried the boy who was trying to drag Mercedes out the window of the train and onto one of the horses outside. Half the boys were riding alongside the train, steering the horses without riders. One by one, the other boys leaped out the window, landing smoothly onto the horses-even the ones carrying the chest. Blaine dropped the little girl and threw his arms around Kurt's waist, dragging him off Mercedes. The boy holding her leaped out the window, nearly falling off his horse. Blaine let Kurt go and tried to run, but Kurt jumped onto his back.

"GET OFF!" Blaine screamed.

"NEVER!"

"FINE," Blaine snarled, "Then you'll just have to come along." He flew out the window, landing on a horse like Kurt weighed nothing. Kurt screamed, his arms tightening around Blaine's waist. He'd never ridden a horse. He hated horses. They were smelly and big and dammit riding this fast _hurt. _He looked over, just managing to make out Mercedes through the tears that had come to his eyes from the wind.

She was all right. That was all that mattered.

The mob of horses turned and Kurt caught a glimpse of the train, fading into the distance.

* * *

><p><em>TO BE CONTINUED!<br>_

_Probably. I don't think this is gonna be that many chapters, but you never know. _

_Happy Easter! :3 bunny  
><em>


	2. Blindfolds and Hideouts

_A/N: YOU GUYS. YOUR REVIEWS ARE SO NICE. YOU MADE MY EASTER, THANK YOU. _

_AFTER Jonah Hex (terrible movie, by the way...we didn't even make it halfway), we watched Tombstone, which just happened to be ANOTHER cowboy movie. Okay, are all cowboy movies centered around revenge and violence, or just those two? This fic will have very little of both those things, just telling you.  
><em>

_Okay, so...I realize how unrealistic this is, especially with the Warblers leaping out of the train onto horses like ninjas in the last chapter. Also, the music I'm going to use is gonna be modern music. Whatev, we'll pretend, right?  
><em>

_Anyway, here's chapter two, hope you enjoy and I hope your Easter was awesometastic! _

* * *

><p>Blaine slowed a little once he thought they were a decent distance away from the train. He felt the pair of arms that was clamped around his waist loosen. He released a breath, not realizing how hard the boy had actually been holding on. He'd probably have bruises tomorrow.<p>

Ugh. This was supposed to have been an easy job. Get on the train, find the chest, leave, get untold riches and retire to some beautiful island somewhere. But he'd seen that lock and he knew it wasn't ordinary. He knew he couldn't open it with any of his lockpicks. He'd need the actual key. A complication he hadn't foreseen.

Speaking of unforeseen complications, they had two hostages now. _Two. _The Warblers _never _took hostages. It was why they were so hard to track down.

The other boys slowed too, circling around him as they all came to a stop to let their horses rest. The poor animals had been all-out sprinting nonstop since the Warblers had first caught up with the train. The group exploded into chaos, all of them yelling at once.

"Wes! What exactly are you plannin' to do about this?"

"Yeah, this wasn't part of the plan at all!"

"What the hell?"

"Hostages-"

"We can't-"

"You-"

"SILENCE!" Wes yelled. Kurt peeked around Blaine's shoulder to look at the Asian boy, who was surveying his men with dark, angry eyes. "I realize this is a...minor setback. However, it's nothin' we can't handle. We've been through worse"-Kurt saw a couple of the boys nod resolutely at this-"and we'll get through this just the same. Got it?" There was a series of nods and mumbled "yeah"s.

"Good. Now, as for the hostages...Blaine, you're stuck with that one. He's your responsibility."

_"What?" _Blaine groaned. Kurt was a little offended, to be honest, by Blaine's obvious disgust at having to deal with him.

"I'll take care of Jones. We need to keep a close eye on her." Kurt scoffed a little. Did they think she was some sort of serial killer? She was just Mercedes, and while she had a killer attitude and and even more deadly singing voice, that was the only thing even remotely dangerous about her. He hoped they wouldn't hurt her.

"We'll go back to the camp, and move out in the morning. We need to get rid of these hostages quickly. The fewer kills the better." Kurt gulped. "Blindfold them, too. We don't want them leading anyone else to our hideouts." Kurt gasped, immediately trying to get off the horse. He wasn't sure what he'd do once he got free since they were in the middle of nowhere and the bad guys had horses to chase him with, but he was desperate.

"Oh, no you don't," Blaine said, reaching his arms behind him and trapping Kurt backwards. He locked his hands together and didn't move. Kurt was strong, but Blaine was stronger.

"Fine! I'll stop. Let go!" Kurt demanded, squirming.

"You're still moving," Blaine pointed out. Kurt froze, and Blaine dropped his arms. Kurt sighed, realizing that attempting to escape would be pointless. Blaine slid off his horse, reaching into the saddle bag to retrieve a red bandanna.

"Uh, I don't think so," Kurt said. "That color is horrendous, and the fabric will _chafe. _Don't you have a scarf or something?"

Blaine stared at him in disbelief. "A scarf?"

"Yes. Something of a softer nature than a damn bandanna." He noticed Mercedes stifling laughter near him, even as they were blindfolding her. This wasn't amusing!

_"You _have a scarf," Blaine said, gesturing to the soft cotton scarf Kurt had around his neck. For the record, he'd never seen _anyone _look that fantastic in a scarf. Especially not a man. The other boy unwound the scarf from his neck and handed it to Blaine, who hoisted himself onto the horse backwards, his legs overlapping Kurt's. Kurt's breath hitched involuntarily.

NO. He wouldn't have those thoughts. But for Christ's sake, another man was _straddling _him. What was he _supposed _to do?

Blaine wrapped the fabric around Kurt's eyes in a surprisingly gentle manner, tying it in a firm knot behind his head.

"What's your name?" Blaine asked quietly as he finished the knot and turned the right way.

"Why do you need to know?" Kurt snapped. The lack of sight was making him _more _scared. He kept hearing thumping noises, and even though he knew it was just the horses hooves he couldn't shake the feeling that it was Mercedes falling off her horse or something.

He felt Blaine shrug in front of him. "We're stuck with each other, so we might as well be introduced."

"No," Kurt said flatly. "Skip the formalities, Wyatt Earp. I have no desire in _getting to know you._ We aren't going to come out of this as friends or anything."

Blaine shrugged again. "Suit yourself."

Kurt ignored him completely until they were off again and he was forced to put his arms around Blaine's waist.

* * *

><p>They arrived at the Warbler's hideaway a little under an hour later. Apparently, they were staying in some abandoned warehouse somewhere. At least, that was what Kurt gathered from the snippets of talk he heard. He and Mercedes were tied to a pole about ten feet from the fire the Warblers had built-still blindfolded-while some crude tents were set up. Kurt <em>imagined <em>them to be crude. He figured nomads wouldn't take time to build mansions each time they stopped somewhere. Besides, these types of people were used to living in dirty places, right?

"Get the hostages some food," Kurt heard. "Blaine, just feed Jones while you're over there."

Kurt perked up. Food? He knew he wasn't going to like it, but he was _starving. _He heard footsteps, then a gentle pair of hands removed his and Mercedes's blindfolds. Blaine. He was muttering something about _Why is it always me that does the dirty work. _Kurt ignored it, finding it hard to pity someone like him.

"Did you bring us food?" he asked. Blaine reached down to untie their hands, leaving their feet tied to the pole in the most complicated knot Kurt had ever seen.

"Don't try to get out," Blaine warned. "That knot gets tighter the harder you try to untie it. The only way to undo it is to cut it."

Well, that was a no go. They'd taken all their belongings as soon as they'd reached the camp. Kurt held his hands out.

"Food. Now. I'm _so _hungry."

Blaine handed them each a bowl of something yellowish and cloudy and a piece of bread. Kurt eyed it warily.

"I thought I said food."

"This is what we eat, princess," Blaine said, raising an eyebrow. "Get used to it."

_"Don't _call me princess," Kurt snapped. "I'm not some dainty little bitch. Get used to _that." _

Mercedes grinned and slung an arm around him. "That's my boy." He grinned back at her. Blaine's expression was an odd mix of shock and amusement. He stood up silently before walking back to the fire.

Kurt swirled the yellow substance around in the bowl. "This really _doesn't _look edible, 'Cedes."

"I know. But I'm really hungry and this bread ain't bad, if a bit stale."

Kurt bit into it reluctantly. She was right. He focused on Blaine as he ate so he'd have something else to think about rather than the nasty food. The Warblers were all laughing about something, and once they'd all finished dinner, they started to sing. It was some old folk song, something Kurt hadn't heard before. The Warblers were _good, _too, and Mercedes and Kurt sure as hell knew good when they heard it. They were..._harmonizing. _Kurt wasn't aware such ugly people could make such beautiful music.

Then, Blaine started singing and his voice was heard over everyone's.

It sounded like chocolate. And it sounded like velvet and it sounded like coffee on a cold day. Kurt wasn't even sure someone's voice could sound like that, but it _did. _It was perfect, and it made Kurt feel warm and sort of...content.

Blaine's eyes sparkled as he sang, and he looked so...happy. Kurt hadn't seen Blaine smile much this entire time, and though he hadn't known him but a few hours, he was sure singing was what made Blaine happiest.

When the song ended, Kurt didn't feel as warm and instead felt sort of annoyed. He wasn't sure what he was annoyed at or if the annoyance had been present during the song and he hadn't noticed, but it was there. He realized his mouth had been hanging open in shock and he closed it quickly. He leaned on Mercedes's shoulder, ignoring the look she gave him when she noticed him eyeing Blaine like he was something edible and delicious.

Come on, he couldn't sing like _that _and expect Kurt not to find him at least a _little _bit attractive. Horrible kidnapper/almost-murderer or not. It wasn't even just Kurt's opinion. It was like...a _fact. _Blaine. Was. Attractive. Logically and scientifically. Or whatever.

The Warblers sang a few more songs before settling in for the night, everyone meandering into their respective dark corners to sleep. Kurt and Mercedes were left tied to the pole, and Blaine and another boy named Thad were to watch them in shifts. Mercedes fell asleep almost instantly, her cheek resting against the top of Kurt's head, the two of them leaning on the pole. She was exhausted...being kidnapped tired her out. Kurt yawned, knowing his parents would be expecting him soon. They'd begin to worry.

Well, there was nothing to be done about it now. He swallowed the guilty feelings in his stomach and watched Blaine walk back and forth in front of them.

"Cool it with the crazy pacing, okay? You're making _me _nervous," Kurt complained. Blaine glared at him.

"I'm trying to stay awake. Get some sleep, we leave bright and early tomorrow."

"You're lucky I'm a morning person. Do you have coffee out here in East Jesus Nowhere?"

Blaine stopped pacing. "Do you ever shut up?"

"No. Answer my question."

"Yeah. Now go to sleep. Please."

"Fine." Kurt closed his eyes, but the hard ground was just _not _comfortable. He opened them again. "Hey."

_"What?" _Blaine groaned exasperatedly.

"Why are you a Warbler?"

"What...what d'you mean, why?" Blaine asked, confused.

"Why do you do-" Kurt gestured vaguely at him. "-what you do?"

Blaine sighed a little. "It's not..." he trailed off. "It's not exactly something you _plan _to do. It's just something you sort of fall into."

Kurt yawned. "I don't understand."

Blaine sighed again. "You said we weren't coming out of this as friends. And I'm pretty sure late-night heart-to-heart talks count as bonding."

Kurt closed his eyes before speaking again. "Suit yourself." He began to doze, the last thought before he fell asleep somewhere along the lines of _Ugh, my skin is so going to suffer for this._

Blaine watched the other boy slowly relaxing as he fell asleep despite the hard ground beneath him. He really was beautiful, if Blaine thought about it. His hair was perfect, even after being dragged about on a horse and blindfolded all day. His skin was flawless and smooth, the color of cream. His long eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks, looking darker against his pale skin. His hands looked so soft, and he noticed Kurt and Mercedes' fingers twining together, holding tight to one another. He knew they'd protect each other no matter what the cost.

Blaine couldn't help wishing they'd met under different circumstances.

* * *

><p><em>Crappy ending, I know. Boring filler chapter. But I gave blood today and I'm exhausted (I'm using that as my excuse for everything). Also, I've given up on the whole cowboy talk thing. I think Blaine and Kurt are super eloquent speakers, and I'm sure that even if they were cowboys they'd talk like that. <em>


	3. Traveling

_A/N: Sorry about the lack of update! Last week was busybusybusy and then I had State Solo and Ensemble contest this weekend...STRESS. However, it's all over now and I went shopping today and life is excellent. _

_IN OTHER NEWS, this chapter will be mostly from Blaine's POV, because, according to a review from Crimson Glory Kai, there hasn't been enough so far. I completely agree and I'm glad you pointed it out to me because I didn't even notice, so thank you very much(: _

_I would also like to thank every single one of you that has read and/or reviewed because I really appreciate every bit of feedback I get. It totally makes me want to keep writing. _

_I was NOT, unfortunately, able to watch the new Glee episode because I had a band concert and my brother forgot to record it:( Which means I can't get on Tumblr because I tried and all I could see were SPOILERS GALORE. I'm pretty sure I made some sort of undignified "squee" noise. _

_Also also also. Blaine's horse is named Katy because Darren Criss likes Katy Perry. Muahaha.  
><em>

_I LOVE YOU ALL AND ENJOY THE LATEST INSTALLMENT OF THE NOT-VERY-WELL-NAMED KLAINE TRAIN. _

* * *

><p><em>"WAKE UP, WARBLERS!" <em>

Blaine opened his eyes groggily. Their hostage was awake and already chattering away.

"Excuse me, uh...ruffian. Thief. Whatever-your-name-is. Blaine said there'd be coffee, and I'm going to need some if you expect me to be able to travel. Quickly."

Blaine sat up to see the boy staring defiantly at a very exhausted Thad.

_"Blaine," _Thad said desperately. "Get. This. Ass. Some. Coffee." He walked over, hissing, "He's been up since who knows when and he won't _shut up. _The little shit told me his whole damn life story."

Blaine rubbed his eyes grumpily. It was _way _too early for this. He meandered over to the boy.

"Why are you terrorizing Thad, kid?" Blaine asked tiredly.

"I was bored. I had no one to talk to. And don't call me _kid." _

"You never told me your name, though," Blaine pointed out. Mercedes grinned.

"His name's Kurt," she volunteered, since Kurt had made no move to tell him.

"Mercedes!" Kurt cried. "I didn't want him to know who I am!"

"Why not?"

"He'll know how to find me in case I escape or something!" Kurt hissed.

"Boy, if you escape you better take me with you, and there are lots of Kurts in the world, I promise." Blaine disagreed. He'd never heard the name before. He liked the sound of it.

"Yeah, okay," Kurt conceded grumpily. "And of course I'll take you with me."

"That would require you actually escaping," Blaine put in, "Which will never happen, trust me."

"You have very little faith in us. I'm hurt," Kurt said, not hurt at all. "Now get me my coffee."

* * *

><p>They were off again by sunrise.<p>

"We'll open the chest when we've reached somewhere more secluded," Wes called to the boys. Was the warehouse not secluded enough? What was in that chest?

Blaine was still grumpy. They rarely left this early.

"What's _your _problem?" Kurt asked when they stopped at a creek for water. He and Mercedes hadn't been blindfolded yet; they weren't close enough to their next hideout for it to matter if they could see or not. Blaine had been muttering angrily for the past fifteen minutes and Kurt had only caught snippets of it. It was mostly curse words.

"Nothing," Blaine snapped. Kurt raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow and Blaine sighed.

"I hate our travel days."

"Why?"

"All day in the sun on a horse, no lunch, sleeping on hard ground if we don't get to one of our hideouts..." he trailed off, patting his horse.

"I thought being a Warbler required you to like the outdoors. And sleeping in the dirt. And being dirty in general," Kurt said, his eyes raking over Blaine's filthy clothes. Blaine frowned, feeling a bit self-conscious.

"I'm not a Warbler because I like it out here."

"Well, then why?"

"I thought we discussed this," Blaine said, smiling. His smile didn't reach his eyes, though. "No bonding."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Fine. Help me back onto the horse."

"Her name is _Katy." _

* * *

><p>It was noon, and the sun was <em>scorching. <em>It was Spring, how was it already so hot? Blaine pushed his sweaty curls off his forehead and sighed, feeling it drip down the back of his neck and chest. It didn't help that Kurt was pressed up against him, his arms wrapped around his waist to keep his balance at the fairly fast pace they were keeping. Even at this rate Blaine knew they weren't going to reach their next destination: Wes's cabin. It was hidden deep in the only woods around, and small. Impossible to find unless you knew where it was.

God, Blaine hated traveling. He liked being outside, sure, but the Warblers didn't stay inside very often. Even going to Wes's cabin like this was a rarity and not all of them would fit inside. Being Blaine, accommodating guy he was, he'd probably be one of the ones outside. He always thought about protesting, but he always ended up conceding and letting his friends sleep inside. He knew Kurt thought they were bad people, but these guys were his _friends. _And when it got right down to it, they were all just good people whose lives had gone bad directions.

He thought about that little girl on the train. What would he have done if Mercedes hadn't stepped forward? He couldn't have shot that girl. He couldn't have. He'd never killed anybody and he didn't know if he was capable of it. He remembered how she'd cried and how her mother had screamed and he shuddered a little.

Kurt felt the shudder and wondered what he was thinking about. He certainly couldn't be _cold, _it was fucking hot out here.

"It's fucking hot," he said aloud. Blaine nodded.

"I know, trust me."

"Warblers, halt! Break time," Wes called. Blaine pulled Katy to a stop, sliding off gratefully and beginning to unbutton his shirt.

"Uh, what are you doing?" Kurt asked, puzzled.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Blaine answered unhelpfully, pulling off his plaid shirt, revealing his sweat-soaked white undershirt. He sighed with relief as the breeze hit his chest, his eyes closing. It felt _amazing. _He glanced up to see Kurt staring at him. "What?"

Kurt's voice sounded strangled when he answered. "Nothing."

"Nothing, my ass. You're bright red."

"Just the heat," Kurt said in the same strangled tone. Blaine snickered and didn't probe further.

Meanwhile, Kurt was...having some trouble organizing his thoughts, to say the least. Blaine's wet white t-shirt was absolutely see through and clinging tightly to Blaine's muscular chest and stomach. Kurt could _count _his _abs. _

_Why _did he have to be so sexy? For Christ's sake, he was a _criminal. _But he didn't act like one, Kurt had noticed. He acted like...a normal person. A normal person who just happened to have an uncanny resemblance to a Greek God. Kurt brushed his sweaty bangs away from his forehead and tried to ignore how disgusting he felt. His skin, he knew, had to be _coated _with grime and pore-clogging dirt.

Blaine pulled himself back up onto his horse, patting her affectionately. Poor Katy, having to carry them this far in the heat.

They were off again and Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine's waist again, and as they quickened their pace the breeze hit them and Kurt caught the boyish smell of sweat and something that he couldn't identify. It smelled like wood and leaves and trees and cinnamon and _heaven_.

It was _Blaine. _

_God dammit. _

* * *

><p>It was sunset when they finally stopped to rest. They had entered a forest a little while ago (blindfolding Mercedes and Kurt again) and were now in a small, secluded clearing surrounded by trees. The Warblers had clearly been here before, for they began setting up tents and one of them pulled aside a bunch of strategically placed leaves to reveal a hidden fire pit. Blaine slipped off Katy's back and reached out a hand to help Kurt down and remove his blindfold before leading her to a creek that ran nearby so she could drink. Kurt took this opportunity to sneak over to Mercedes. Wes had forgotten about her for the moment in favor of yelling orders at the Warblers. He grabbed her hand, helping her slip her blindfold off.<p>

"Mercedes," he whispered urgently. "They're busy, do you think we should make a run for it?"

She bit her lip. "But...they still have the chest...and they'd chase us, wouldn't they?"

"Don't worry. Now that we're not blindfolded, it shouldn't be hard to tell your parents where the Warblers are. They're so preoccupied with the camp setup I don't think they'd even notice us until we were already gone."

Mercedes looked around worriedly, hesitating. "Well...okay." She grabbed his hand. "Let's go." Kurt allowed himself one more glance around before turning and dragging her away into the trees. They were thicker nearest the clearing, so it was easier for them to hide. However, it wasn't long before they heard a cry.

_"Where are they? WHY WEREN'T YOU WATCHING THEM?" _

"RUN!" Kurt screamed. They took off at a dead sprint, their feet pounding the dirt. Even at their speed, they heard feet behind them and Kurt was sure he heard a horse's hooves. _Shit. _

* * *

><p>Blaine was running, having left Katy behind in his desperation. Dammit, this was all his fault. If he had just been watching like Wes had told him to...<p>

He heard a yelp that sounded suspiciously like Kurt and veered in that direction.

* * *

><p>Kurt tripped over a root and yelped as his ankle twisted painfully. He tried desperately to stand, but his knees gave out. He couldn't walk. Mercedes, who had run a little ways ahead, noticed he was gone and turned around, running back to him.<p>

"Are you okay?" she gasped, her breathing labored.

"No," he moaned weakly. "I...twisted my ankle. I..." Then something clicked in his head. "Wait, what are you doing? Get out of here! Keep running!"

Mercedes pulled him to his feet. "Not without you." She hoisted him into the air and threw him over her shoulder.

"What are you doing?" he squealed. "Just leave me!"

"Hell no, boy!" she yelled, running as best she could with him on her back. He was light as air, but his long legs were getting in the way of the shorter girl. She ran as fast as she could, but she knew they weren't going to make it.

* * *

><p><em>"THERE THEY ARE!" <em>

Blaine sped up, catching a glimpse of Jones carrying Kurt over her shoulder. Carrying him? Was he injured? Blaine put on a last burst of speed, throwing all his weight onto Mercedes and knocking her and her passenger to the ground. He jumped up, prepared to fight until they both gave in, but neither of them tried getting up. Mercedes just pulled Kurt into her lap and wrapped her arms around him. Blaine paused, registering the look of pain on Kurt's face.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice suddenly gentle. Kurt just looked so _vulnerable. _

"He sprained his ankle," Mercedes snapped. "Now leave him alone."

Blaine reached out, meaning to lift Kurt's pant leg and try to get a look at it, but at that very moment, the other Warblers arrived.

"Ah. Good. You found them," Wes said. "Get them up and bring them back." He turned on his heel without another word and left. None of the other Warblers made any move to help Blaine as he stepped forward. He held out his arms.

"Give him to me."

"No!" Mercedes protested. "I can carry him just fine." She tried to stand up, falling back down with a _thump!_

"It's okay, 'Cedes," Kurt said, gritting his teeth. "I can walk." He, too, tried to stand, but his ankle gave way beneath him, his face twisting in pain. Blaine reached out and caught him in his arms.

"Whoa. Easy."

Kurt glared at him. "Don't you 'EASY' me. Stop being all...nice. You're a _kidnapper. _And a _murderer. _Get off me." He tried to shove Blaine's hands away, but they only tightened.

"No. You can't walk," Blaine said shortly. He lifted Kurt into the air, bridal style, and started to walk, knowing Mercedes would follow. She did, protesting the entire way. Kurt gave up struggling after a while, settling into Blaine's arms. His arms felt strong and Kurt could feel the steady drum of his heartbeat against him. It was sort of comforting. He was glad it was Blaine here and not Wes. He was sure Wes wouldn't have been so kind about Kurt's ankle, and it really _did _hurt.

Blaine held Kurt closer, continuing his slow, even pace. He stumbled only once, and when he heard Kurt's sharp intake of breath as he jostled his ankle, he felt an odd sense of protectiveness towards the boy in his arms. He wasn't sure why. Was he going soft? He couldn't be. He was _Blaine Anderson, _for Christ's sake. He was a _Warbler, _feared by everyone! He wasn't going _soft. _

But, just to be safe (so Kurt's soft gasps of pain wouldn't turn into screaming or anything...he didn't want anyone to hear him, that's all), he started humming a song from his childhood, a song his mother used to use to get him to go to sleep. It was a playful melody_, _and Kurt visibly brightened upon hearing it, forgetting about the pain entirely.

Blaine smiled.

_Hey, soul sister, hey that mister mister..._


	4. Punishment

_A/N: SORRY I WAS BUSY AGAIN._

_Okay, so I messed up the lyrics to Hey, Soul Sister. I think it's "AIN'T that mister mister" and I said "HEY that mister mister..." Whatever. I don't know. IT STILL MAKES SENSE. _

_Two more days and then it's PROOOOOM. HOLY GRILLED CHEESUS. I'm so excited. _

_Happy Mother's Day! _

* * *

><p>Blaine tied Mercedes and Kurt to a tree near the edge of the camp. He was just about to try and get another look at Kurt's leg when Wes called him into his tent. He went, reluctantly, dragging his feet. He pushed the tent flap back and peered inside. Wes was sitting cross-legged on a bedroll on the ground, a lantern the only light in the fading day. The chest was sitting in front of him, and he stared at it with a sort of reverence.<p>

"Blaine," he said simply, his voice low.

"Wes?" Blaine replied, trying to keep his voice steady. A cold sense of foreboding raised goosebumps on his arms. Wes reached out a finger to touch the chest, _caressing _it.

"You know how important Jones is to us. Right?"

"Right."

"And...you know how important this chest is to us. Right?"

"Right."

"So, tell me. Why, exactly, when you knew how important these things were to us, did you nearly let them _slip _right out of our fingers..." -Wes raised his fist suddenly, his voice growing louder- "...LIKE THEY DIDN'T MATTER?" He slammed his fist onto the wood of the chest and it connected with a resounding _slam. _Blaine cringed.

"With all due respect," Blaine said, suddenly formal, "Jones was not the one who was my responsibility."

"Are you _blaming _me?" Wes snarled. "I have other responsibilities! I have the _entire group of Warblers _to attend to! Did you not take that into consideration when you were getting _water _for your _poor horse? _You should've tied them up the second you got to camp! _What the hell were you thinking?" _

"Kurt's _harmless! _How was I supposed to know he'd try to cut and run?" _I thought he sort of liked me, actually. _

"You've dealt with enough people that you should've known. You have no excuse, Blaine. And you're going to have to take the punishment."

"What? What punishment?" Blaine's stomach twisted with dread as David emerged from the shadows of the tent, holding a rope. "What are you doing, Wes?"

"I'm sorry, Blaine, but the other Warblers need to know the consequences of losing these...important things." Wes's forehead crinkled into a frown, as though it upset him to do this. "David."

David began to move forward.

"David, what are you doing? Wes? Get away from me!" Blaine stood up and made to run out of the tent, but David was already closing in on him. He stumbled and David caught him. Blaine struggled desperately against David's grip, but to no avail.

"Let me go, dammit!" he yelled. David was bigger than him, though, and eventually had wrestled Blaine into a sort of headlock, his arms tight around Blaine's, pinning them to his sides. Blaine continued to struggle as Wes approached him.

"I'm sorry about this, Blaine," he said. He pulled out his gun, lifting it towards Blaine.

"No! _NO!" _Blaine screamed. Wes lifted it higher. Higher. Just when it was above Blaine's head, he brought it down with a sharp _crack _and everything went black.

* * *

><p>Kurt lifted his head from Mercedes's shoulder at the sound of Blaine yelling. What was going on in there? He exchanged a worried look with Mercedes. A minute or so passed and the tent flap opened. Wes and another Warbler came out, carrying a small body between them. Blaine? Kurt felt his body go cold. They lifted Blaine's arms above his head. His hands were tied. They tossed a rope over a tree branch above their heads and tied one end to Blaine's hands. Then, they began to pull. And pull, lifting his limp body into the air. When he was about three feet off the ground, they tied the other end of the rope to a rock. They turned to the Warblers, all of whom had fallen silent.<p>

"Let this be a lesson to any of you who think letting Jones escape is not a punishable offense. Don't think you get _chances _in any situation dealing with Jones or the chest. One mistake. That's all it takes." Wes strode back into his tent, the other Warbler following. The Warblers immediately began to whisper amongst themselves, and Kurt turned to Mercedes.

"Is he-"

"No," she said, cutting him off. "He's not. They wouldn't do that. They're not _that _evil, are they?"

Kurt looked at Blaine's lifeless body hanging from the tree, swinging eerily in the breeze. He had to look away. "I hope not."

* * *

><p>It was late when Blaine woke up. The first thing he registered was pain. His head pounded where Wes had hit him, and his arms felt as though they'd been wrenched from their sockets. He was...hanging? He kicked his feet a little, wrenching his arms more. He let out a soft cry of pain, biting his lip. He looked around, his eyes adjusting to the dark. Everyone was in their tents. Mercedes was asleep, and Kurt was...awake. Staring at him, his wide blue eyes glowing in the dark.<p>

"Blaine?" he heard him whisper. He didn't have the energy to reply. "Are you okay?"

"No," Blaine croaked, closing his eyes. "My...arms..."

Kurt struggled helplessly against his ropes. "What did he do to you?"

"He...hit me."

"Blaine? I'm sorry."

Blaine's eyes shot open. "Why?"

Kurt was looking down. "It's my fault you're up there."

Blaine shook his head, almost unintelligibly. "It's not you. Wes...he..." he stopped, taking a deep breath against the pain in his arms. "He feels like he needs to...prove a point. All the time."

"Are you defending him?"

Blaine tried to shrug, which was a bad idea. He hissed, his arms cramping. "Why do you care, anyway?"

Kurt didn't answer for a while. When he did, his voice was small. "I don't know."

There was silence. Then, Blaine spoke, softly. "I'm not a murderer, you know."

Kurt looked up at him, his expression defiant. "You were going to kill that little girl. That innocent, beautiful little girl who hadn't done _anything _to you."

Blaine smiled sadly, shaking his head. "No. I wasn't. I've never killed anyone in my entire life."

"But...you're a _Warbler," _Kurt said, confused.

"I'm not a murderer, though. Lots of the other guys have never killed people."

"Has Wes ever killed anyone?"

"Yeah," Blaine said softly. "We were on this job...and there was this sheriff...standing in front of our way out, wouldn't budge. Wes was just going to shoot past his head, scare him a little. He missed, and shot him straight through the forehead. He wasn't the same after that." Blaine went silent, staring at the ground. He shifted a little, sending pains through his arms again, unable to stop a small gasp of pain from escaping. Kurt bit his lip, desperate to keep distracting Blaine.

"You guys sing, then, huh?"

"Uh, yeah. Just for fun, though," Blaine said dismissively.

"You're really good," Kurt murmured. Blaine flashed him a grin.

"Thanks."

"Uhm, if we sang something together, do you...do you think it would take your mind off the pain?"

Blaine smiled at him. "Sure."

"Okay, uhm. Do you know Blackbird? By The Beatles?"

"Not really. If you don't mind, I'd just like to listen."

"Well, okay," Kurt said nervously. He opened his mouth, and Blaine nearly fainted.

_Blackbird singing in the dead of night_

_Take these broken wings and learn to fly_

_All your life_

_You were only waiting for this moment to arise_

Blaine had never heard anything more perfect that Kurt's pure, angelic voice. He felt his eyes glaze over and he knew his mouth was hanging open, but _damn, _he never wanted this song to end.

_Blackbird singing in the dead of night_

_Take these sunken eyes and learn to see_

_All your life_

_You were only waiting for this moment to be free_

Blaine closed his eyes blissfully. He felt like he was floating, the pain forgotten.

_Blackbird, fly_

_Blackbird, fly_

_Into the light of the dark black night_

_Blackbird, fly_

_Blackbird...fly..._

Kurt stopped singing. Blaine opened his eyes. Blue eyes met hazel and a thrill passed through him, his heart jumping.

"Thank you," he murmured. 

* * *

><p><em>AN: Short chapter is short. And not good, bleh, I can never feel satisfied with these when I first finish them. _

_I hate making Wes the bad guy! But somebody has to be. Maybe I'll make him nice at the end, I dunno. _

_You guys are amazing, as always.  
><em>


	5. Wes's Cabin

_A/N: I'M SO SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG TO POST, I WAS SO BUSY AND THEN I WENT TO CALIFORNIA AH. I SUCK. I KNOW. I'M SO SO SO SOS SOS SORRY. _

__Also I'd like to post a shoutout to **mony101** who questioned why I have Kurt singing modern songs. I don't know any songs from that time (I'm assuming they were folk sort of songs since Rock N'Roll and stuff didn't happen until_ the 20th century), so I'm using modern songs and pretending they're relevant. The story's not particularly realistic anyway, so I figured I'd take some artistic liberties. :) __  
><em>

_I watched the new Glee episode, though, and BLAINE SAID HE LOVED KURT. BLAINE SAID HE LOVED KURT.  
>BLAINE.<br>SAID.  
>HE.<br>LOVED.  
>KURT. <em>

_And Samcedes? I ship it. They're adorable. _

* * *

><p>The next morning, Wes strode silently out of his tent, pulled out his knife, and sliced cleanly through the rope holding Blaine off the ground. Blaine, caught by surprise, had no time to catch himself and landed in a heap on the ground, his arms falling uselessly in front of him. Kurt started awake at the sound of Blaine falling and tried to stand, stumbling when his ropes and the pain in his throbbing ankle pulled him back down.<p>

"What are you doing?" Mercedes asked, annoyed. She rubbed her eyes, glaring at him. Kurt sank back down.

"I don't know," he said truthfully. He squirmed, watching Blaine pull himself into a standing position, his legs asleep from hanging for so long. David cut the ropes off his hands and walked away unsympathetically. No one spoke to Blaine. The camp was silent as Blaine brought Kurt and Mercedes their food. When Kurt reached out to take the breakfast of bread and that horrid soup from him, he had to bite his lip to keep from gasping aloud at the sight of the angry red marks on Blaine's wrists from the ropes. Kurt couldn't pinpoint why he felt such pity for Blaine. He just had this feeling that Blaine was a profoundly _good _person.

But he wasn't. He couldn't be. He was a criminal, right?

* * *

><p>After breakfast, the Warblers packed up in uncomfortable silence, like they'd done it a million times before. Blaine untied Kurt and helped him to his feet, lifting him carefully onto Katy. Kurt thought he heard a tiny gasp of pain from Blaine, but he couldn't be sure. Blaine climbed on and Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine's waist like usual.<p>

"You okay?" he whispered. Blaine nodded.

"I'm fine."

"I don't believe you," Kurt said.

"Are _you _okay?" Blaine asked.

"Don't change the subject."

"I _said _I'm fine. Your ankle...is it any better today?"

Kurt blew at his bangs, annoyed. "No. And _I _said not to change the subject." When Blaine didn't answer, Kurt gave him a squeeze.

Blaine sighed, feeling a little better.

* * *

><p>It was hot again, hotter than the day before; they stopped for water the first chance they got. Blaine reached out to fill his canteen with water from the river and his sleeves slipped back, revealing the rope burns on his arms again. They were worse, somehow, than they had been that morning and Kurt bit back a gasp.<p>

"Blaine," he hissed, '"Your wrists..."

"Shh," Blaine hushed him. "I'll be fine. Be quiet."

"They could get infected!"

"They're just rope burns, it's not like I was attacked by a rabid dog. I'll live, Kurt."

"Blaine-"

"Let it go."

Kurt glared at him. Not happening. "Let me see them again."

"No."

Kurt grabbed him by the forearm and pulled; Blaine, his arms weaker from the strain of hanging all night, wasn't strong enough to resist. Kurt eased his sleeves up past his wrists, wincing at the purplish burns all around Blaine's wrists. He reached up, slipping the bandanna that Blaine was wearing off his head and dipped it in the river. After squeezing out the excess he took Blaine's hands in his, dabbing gently at the burns. Blaine hissed, his burns stinging, but it felt better after a minute. He could feel some other Warblers staring at them but he couldn't tear his eyes away from Kurt, fixed on the way his soft hands felt against Blaine's, the way his blue eyes burned with concentration as he tried not to press too hard on his wrists with the cloth.

"Warblers, move out!" Wes yelled just as Kurt was tying a couple scraps of cloth around Blaine's wrists ("So your sleeves won't rub against the burns," he'd told Blaine). Blaine glanced up at him gratefully.

"Thanks."

Kurt just nodded, holding his hand out for Blaine to help him onto Katy again.

What was he doing, helping Blaine like that? It wasn't like Blaine _deserved _it.

But he _had _said he wasn't going to kill that little girl...he said he'd never killed anybody.

No, the Warblers were the most feared group of thieves in the West. There was no way Blaine wasn't a bad person. Blaine didn't deserve his kindness.

Did he?

* * *

><p>They arrived at Wes's cabin very late. It was dark, and the forest was teeming with activity. Birds cawed, leaves rustled, and cicadas cried in a deafening symphony that shattered the otherwise peaceful night. Kurt swore he heard a wolf howl in the distance.<p>

"All right, Warblers, you know the drill," Wes droned, tying up his horse and Mercedes and stumbling tiredly inside. Blaine helped Kurt off Katy and let him put an arm around him as he limped in Mercedes's direction.

"Blaine, I don't need your help," Kurt protested. Blaine ignored him, sweeping him quite literally off his feet and lifting him into the air bridal style. He carried him to the tree where Wes had tied Mercedes and set him gently on the ground. He sat at Kurt's feet, reaching out to lift Kurt's pant leg.

"What are you doing?" Kurt asked, slightly shrilly.

"Relax, I'm just looking at your ankle," Blaine told him quietly.

"You'd better not hurt my boy or _all _hell'll break loose," Mercedes snapped at him, slipping her hand into Kurt's and holding tightly. Carefully, Blaine lifted Kurt's pant leg and rolled it up (this was difficult, due to the fact that the boy's pants were ridiculously tight for a cowboy), grimacing at the sight of Kurt's ankle, swollen and purple with bruising.

"That looks bad," Blaine said.

"You think?" Kurt snapped sarcastically. "Maybe if I hadn't had to _flee _for my _life, _it wouldn't have happened."

Kurt was shocked, then, by the sudden look of remorse in Blaine's eyes. Was he actually..._sorry? _

"I'm just gonna go get something to wrap it up for you," he mumbled. Blaine walked over to get his saddlebag and unpack his bedroll. He tied Katy to a post with the other horses, taking a moment to compose himself as he petted her and whispered nonsense to her. He didn't normally care this much about hostages. Then again, the Warblers didn't _take _hostages. Ever. Even so, this one seemed different. There was something...special about him.

No, that was silly. He was just another prissy rich kid, probably on his way to his summer home wherever it was rich kids lived.

He wasn't special. Even if he _was _special, what did Blaine care? He was just a hostage. Just business. And Blaine had to take special care that business went well. That's the only reason he was making sure Kurt was okay. That's the only reason he cared so much about Kurt's well-being...

The _only _reason. It had nothing to do with how Kurt's eyes were the color of the ocean and the sky combined, and it had nothing to do with the way his lips curved up like an _angel's _when he smiled, and it had nothing to do with how _soft _his skin was, and it had _absolutely nothing _to do with the way his singing voice made Blaine melt like...

NO.

It was just business.

* * *

><p>YOU GUYS, I REALLY AM SO SORRY. I'll do better from now on. I PINKY PROMISE.<p>

I'm sorry. O.o I feel really bad. Sorry.

Okay. Last time I'll say sorry (today). Sorry.


	6. Rescue

_A/N: I have no idea where this is going, to be honest. So I'm just gonna write and see what happens. Bow chicka wow wow. _

* * *

><p>"I want backstory," Kurt demanded suddenly. It was midnight (or close to it) and it was Blaine's turn to be on watch. Kurt was beginning to notice that the Warblers seemed to saddle him with the jobs nobody else wanted, like guarding the hostages into the wee hours of the morning. Blaine looked up at him from where he was leaning against a nearby tree.<p>

"Huh?"

"Backstory," Kurt said slowly. "Where're you from? Who is Blaine Warbler?"

"Anderson," Blaine corrected. "My last name isn't Warbler just because I'm in the Warblers."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "I was making a joke."

"Why do you want to know?" Blaine asked, tilting his head at him curiously. Was he...actually _smoldering? _What the hell was this?

"I can't sleep."

"I thought you didn't do late night bonding." Blaine yawned.

"It's not _bonding, _I'm just bored and you just happen to be here. I'll keep you awake, come on."

Kurt was just bored, right? He didn't actually _care _or anything. Blaine sighed.

"Fine. Where do I start?"

"Where are you from?"

"Ohio."

"No way, me too. Where?"

"Dalton."

"Where's _that?" _

"It's a small town. Not a lot of people could afford to live there. My parents were rich, though, and they liked the environment." Blaine swallowed, then, looking at the ground. "Until the fire."

"The fire?"

"Yeah. It...Dalton was a very...accepting place. Anybody could be anybody and no one would judge. Like, there was this guy, Denny. He used to dress in women's clothing and make us call him Danielle. And my friend Santana, she and her girlfriend Brittany got married there. But...some people didn't like that. They...a bunch of them got together and...they came one night, with torches and pitchforks, that sort of thing. They were just trying to make a statement, I think, and...it just got out of hand. Something caught on fire and it spread, and it's such a small town that it didn't take much for the whole thing to be completely destroyed." Blaine picked nervously at a blade of grass. His face was expressionless, but his voice wavered just a bit when he said, "Only a few people survived. My parents were killed." He cleared his throat and continued. "Wes, David and I all went to school together. We ran away. We started just stealing when we absolutely needed it, like for food...but it escalated. It got to the point where we found out we were _good _at robbing people." He laughed bitterly. "So we gathered a group of misfits with nowhere to go, gave ourselves a name, and it's been that way ever since."

Kurt whistled. "Wow. So when did Wes turn into such a controlling bitch?"

Blaine barked out a laugh, shrugging half-heartedly. "He's just paranoid. He thinks someone's gonna try and take his position or something. Likes to demonstrate his authority."

Kurt chuckled. There was a brief silence, then, before Kurt asked seriously, "So...if you could quit...would you?"

Another bitter laugh. "I can't just _quit. _My face is on all the wanted posters. I have no house, no money...I don't have anything else I can _do. _This is what I'm _good _at."

"It can't be the _only _thing."

Blaine was tired of talking about this. Enough was enough. He'd made his decisions. Whether they were mistakes or not was none of Kurt's concern. He was _happy _with his life. Or, at least, indifferent about it. He'd settled into his niche and it was safe here.

"Kurt, go to sleep."

"But I'm not finished," Kurt protested. "Things were just getting interesting."

_"I'm _finished. Now go to sleep."

Kurt pouted.

"What about singing?" he asked suddenly. "You have a _gorgeous _voice."

"Well, thanks," Blaine said, turning a lovely shade of pink. "But I don't exactly see anyone paying great money to see me."

"You never know."

"Sure," Blaine indulged him, just agreeing to get him to be quiet. "Sure."

They were quiet.

"Blaine?"

"Hmm?"

"You're not as bad as you think you are."

Blaine laughed nervously. "Uh, thanks?"

Kurt didn't answer, shifting a little against the tree and pulling his thin shirt closer around him.

"You cold?" Blaine asked, genuinely concerned. Why he felt so protective of this boy he'd never know, but Kurt just looked so _small. _Vulnerable. Kurt shook his head defiantly, but his shivering gave him away. The summer heat of the day had faded when night fell, and now he was freezing. Blaine stood up, then, shrugging out of his overshirt and handing it to Kurt. Kurt shook his head.

"I'm okay, really."

"Just take it."

"No, I'm fine."

"I insist," Blaine said, walking back to his tree, too far away for Kurt to give it back. "I'm not cold." Kurt sighed in defeat, draping the shirt over him like a blanket. He snuggled up to Mercedes's shoulder, yawning. He felt disgusting (having not showered in days) and he didn't want to sleep. But he was exhausted and Blaine's shirt was so warm and it smelled like cedar and _boy. _It was peaceful and homey.

Kurt fell asleep feeling safe.

* * *

><p>There was yelling. All Kurt could hear was yelling.<p>

He opened his eyes to chaos.

The entire camp was in an uproar. Warblers ran every which way yelling and waving pistols. Shots rang out, and a man fell at Kurt's feet, raising a cloud of dust. Kurt screamed, grabbing Mercedes's arm.

"What's happening?" he cried. She turned to the tree, working frantically at the knots on the ropes.

"I don't know, I woke up when the screaming started." Kurt whirled around, trying to help her untie the knots binding them to the tree. It was useless. They were stuck. Kurt turned back around, facing the man lying facedown in front of him. In an act of desperation, he reached out, tugging at the man's belt, searching for his knife. He bit his lip so hard it nearly drew blood, trying not to throw up as another shot rang out and another man fell, this time with a pool of blood seeping from a wound on his head.

"Keep the blood _away _from my boots!" Kurt shrieked nonsensically. He'd found the knife and was sawing at the ropes. He'd just cut Mercedes loose when Wes noticed them.

"GET THE HOSTAGES!" he screamed.

"Run, Mercedes!" Kurt yelled. She shook her head.

"No, Kurt!"

"I said, _RUN!" _Kurt repeated. She did, sprinting towards the forest. Kurt began cutting at his own ropes, but Wes found him first. He grabbed Kurt's arm and wrenched him to his feet, snatching the knife from him.

"I don't know why we let you live," he snarled. "You've become too much of a nuisance for my taste."

He raised the knife.

* * *

><p>Blaine saw Wes grab Kurt. He saw him lift the knife. And before he knew what he was doing, he'd dropped the man he was fighting and was sprinting as quickly as he could towards the two men. He shoved Wes out of the way, reaching his arms out to steady Kurt as he wobbled on his injured ankle.<p>

"Are you all right?" he gasped over the commotion. Kurt just stared at him. He reached up, unconsciously brushing the hair out of Kurt's eyes. "Kurt?"

"I..."

"KURT!" another voice thundered. A huge man shoved through the struggle, shoving Blaine aside easily with one hand. Blaine tumbled to the ground.

"Finn?" Kurt said, shocked. Finn drew his own knife, slicing cleanly through the ropes still holding Kurt to the tree. "I found you, Kurt. Our spy in the Warblers, he sent us a message, and we found you." He grinned triumphantly, then lifted Kurt into the air like he weighed nothing, turning to run.

"Blaine!" Kurt yelled, remembering the Warbler. He looked over his brother's shoulder, reaching a hand out to Blaine.

"Kurt!" Blaine yelled back, struggling to his feet. He made like he was going to chase after them, but something stopped him. He let his hands fall limply to his sides, unmoving. Finn yelled at the rest of the men to move out, and as Kurt's brother carried him out of sight, Blaine raised his hand in a wave.

The last thing Kurt remembered before blacking out was realizing he still had Blaine's shirt on.

* * *

><p><em>AN: I DON'T KNOW HOW WES TURNED INTO THE BAD GUY. I'm sorry. It just happened. _

_Sooooo. I leave for Washington D.C next week, and then Chicago...I'll try to update a couple times before then, but we'll see how that goes. You know how bad I am about updating. :/ I suck without deadlines. I'm a ginormous procrastinator. I'll work on it. _

_YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME, MWAH. 3_


	7. Trapped

_A/N: Been quite busy, as always. _

_There was actually a death in the family recently and so...you know how that goes. Anyway, hopefully I'll be able to update more frequently, but, as said previously, I happen to SUCK at deadlines. _

* * *

><p>Kurt woke up in a bed, which was new. He'd only been sleeping on cold ground for a couple of days, but for some reason it felt like he'd never touched a bed before. He was still dirty and slimy from the road, but his sheets and his pillows just felt like <em>heaven. <em>They smelled like memories. Kurt closed his eyes again and was about to fall back into sweet sleep when the events of last night hit him.

_Blaine. Mercedes. _

What had happened to them? Where were they? Kurt sat bolt upright and made to jump out of bed before realizing something was different. His leg felt...heavier. He threw back the covers, revealing his injured ankle, wrapped in bandages. How was he supposed to walk with that? Gingerly, he tried to put weight on it. It hurt as much as ever, and now it was impossible to balance. He sank back onto the bed, feeling useless.

"Kurt?" Finn poked his head in the door, grinning widely and crossing the room in two long strides to give him a bear hug.

"You're crushing me, Finn," Kurt groaned, grinning too in spite of himself.

"We thought you were dead, man."

"I can handle a couple of Warblers."

Finn swatted him playfully. "I don't think so. Here, I brought your crutches." Kurt wrinkled his nose disdainfully, situating them under his arms before asking the important questions.

"Where's Mercedes?"

"We've got her, don't worry. She's at home with her parents. The chest too. It's all safe."

Kurt hesitated before asking the next question, trying to think how to phrase it. "And...were any Warblers captured?"

"Yeah, we caught a few. The leader and his sidekicks. So, the best ones, really." Finn grinned, proud of himself.

"Good," Kurt said shakily. The leader obviously meant Wes. But his sidekicks? Which ones were those?

"Come on, mom's got breakfast ready. Everyone really wants to hear what happened to you. But if you don't want to tell, I'll tell em. If it was too horrible or something," Finn said quickly.

"No, no, it's fine. It really was quite an adventure," Kurt admitted. Now that he was free and safe, he could look back on his kidnapping with less fear. As long as the other Warblers didn't come after him...but they didn't know where he was, did they? And the truly dangerous ones were locked up.

"You can shower first, I know how you don't like being dirty."

Oh, Finn. Kurt smiled. He'd forgotten how much he missed home. He nodded. Finn got a towel and held the clothes Kurt picked out since he couldn't walk on his own.

"The doctor just said to try not to get the bandages too wet. By the way, where'd you get that shirt? It doesn't look like something you'd normally wear."

Kurt looked down. He was still wearing Blaine's shirt. He bit his lip.

"It's...a friend's."

Finn didn't question him. "Okay!" He set Kurt's clothes down for him in the bathroom. "See you in a few minutes, Kurt!"

Kurt slipped the shirt off, holding it carefully, gingerly, like it was breakable. Slowly, he lifted it to his nose, inhaling the scent of Blaine that still clung to the fabric. He sighed.

A crashing sound from the kitchen-most likely Finn breaking a dish- brought him out of his reverie, and he dropped the shirt like it was on fire. What was he doing?

He folded the shirt almost reverently before setting it aside.

* * *

><p>"Blaine. <em>Blaine!" <em>

Blaine looked up from where he was sitting, hunched in a ball in the corner of the cell he was sharing with Wes and the other Warblers.

"What?"

"Get up and help us think of a way to escape! The Warblers don't just _sit _and allow themselves to be _hanged _like animals!"

Blaine sighed and stood up, circling the cell. It was small, only about six feet square. There was a chamber pot in the corner for them to do their business and a bench to sleep on. There was also a window.

"Well, the window seems to be our best bet," Blaine said, his voice emotionless. "If we could find some way to send a message to the others, perhaps they could arrange something." He resumed his slumped position on the floor. He felt lost. Even if he did get out, where would he go? He felt less and less like a part of the Warblers lately. He was tired of stealing and running all the time.

But he had nowhere to go. He was a criminal, and there was no way to escape that. You can't run from who you are.

Blaine hugged his knees to his chest, unaware of the other Warblers' stares.

He thought about Kurt. He wondered if Kurt was still wearing his shirt. It hadn't quite fit him; it had been too short and too wide. It had hung loose around his thin frame. The sleeves had gone about halfway up his hands, only allowing for his fingers to stick out.

It was perfect.

_He _was perfect. And under different circumstances, Blaine might have gone for it. He might have swept Kurt off his feet (or tried, at least). But under _these _circumstances, Blaine was a thief, and Kurt was an angel. Blaine was disgusting, and Kurt was beautiful.

There was no way.

* * *

><p>Kurt was clean, and comfortable, and surrounded by his loving family. He was reliving his story, and it was taking all of his energy to leave out the parts about Blaine. But, for some reason, without those parts, the story seemed bland and, to be honest, rather boring.<p>

"...and then you all came and rescued me, and that's the end of my spectacular story."

"Wow," Burt said, clapping a hand on his son's back. "Kurt, we were really worried. But you got through it and I'm really proud of you." Kurt grinned.

"Thanks, dad."

Burt withdrew his hand, waving away his thanks. "Eat yer breakfast, kid. You look thin."

Carole stood up to take some of the dishes to the kitchen, ruffling Finn's hair and hugging Kurt around the neck (knowing how much he hated to mess up his hair), communicating her affection for him less verbally than his father.

It seemed that everything was back to the way it had been.

But...

Blaine. Stupid Blaine with his stupid gorgeous eyes and his stupid wonderful smile and his stupid kindness. Why did he have to be so nice? It would be so much easier for Kurt to hate him if he were actually the criminal he pretended to be. The criminal he thought he was. And he wasn't. Kurt knew it. Blaine wasn't as bad as he seemed. He was sweet and polite and gentlemanly. Not to mention, the most beautiful human being Kurt had ever seen in his existence. And he'd gone and gotten his stupid butt captured and _how w_as Kurt supposed to save him when he couldn't be freed merely because he was actually a nice person. He'd stolen things and raided trains and even though he said he'd never killed anyone, Kurt wasn't sure after the fight; he hadn't seen everything. There was no way out of this.

Kurt went upstairs and pulled Blaine's shirt out from under the bed where he'd hidden it and buried his face in it.

* * *

><p>In his cell, Blaine watched as Wes sank to the ground in defeat, admitting, finally, that they were well and truly trapped. Blaine closed his eyes, letting his head hit the wall with a dull <em>thunk.<em>

There was no way out of this.

* * *

><p><em>AN: BORING CHAPTER. I'm sorry, but this would work out better as two chapters. Probably. Maybe. The rest should be posted within the hour. _


	8. Planning

_A/N: Next part of Boring Chapter! Hopefully this will be less boring than its brother. Poor bastard. _

_God this hiatus is killing me. It's harder and harder to get inspiration without on-screen chemistry to go off of. KLAINE WHERE ARE YOU MY BABIES. RETURN TO MEEEE_

_Ahem._

* * *

><p>Kurt sat up from where he'd been lying hopelessly on his bed. He wanted to see Blaine. He <em>needed <em>to see Blaine. Just one last time, before...no. He wouldn't think about it.

He slid out of bed, grabbing his crutches.

"I'm going to go visit Mercedes, make sure she's okay," Kurt said to his father on the way out. It wasn't exactly a lie. He _would _go visit her. Just not the entire time he'd be out.

He borrowed Finn's horse, stopping at Mercedes's place only long enough to make sure she was all right and chat with her for a minute before he left. He didn't tell her everything, which made him feel awful because they really were best friends. But he didn't think she'd understand. He'd tell her later, when he'd gotten his feelings in order. Everything felt sort of jumbled at the moment. He was just acting on instinct.

The jail was a small building, with not enough room for the people it held. The sheriff that stood in on Finn's days off sat at the front desk now, his feet propped up, fast asleep. Kurt rolled his eyes, leaning his crutches against a wall and hobbling right past him to the cells. The inmates rushed to the bars at the sight of a visitor, snarling evil things at him as he passed.

"Where you goin', ladyface?"

"What'd you do to yer leg, faggot? Did ya break it while you were doin' yer ballet?"

"C'mere and let me fix yer hair for you, lady."

Kurt just walked straighter, trying not to limp as much. He reached the cell at the end, the biggest. It wasn't until he saw them that he realized this was a terrible idea. Wes and a few others were gathered in a corner. The others were listening intently while Wes whispered things. Another Warbler just paced. Another lay on the bench on one side of the cell, his arm slung over his face. And Blaine, _his _Blaine, was curled up in the corner nearest him, his forehead resting on his knees. Like he'd given up. And suddenly, Kurt realized he _wasn't _here to say his last goodbyes. He was here to save Blaine. Blaine, who should _never _have to look so hopeless. Who should _never _have to look so lost. Kurt would make sure he didn't feel that way. Ever. He knelt by the bars; the Warblers were so engrossed in their own activities that they didn't notice.

"Blaine," Kurt whispered.

* * *

><p>"Blaine."<p>

It couldn't be. It wasn't. Blaine lifted his head as if in a trance, turning his head slowly to face the voice of an angel, the most beautiful boy he'd ever seen.

"Kurt?" he whispered back, crawling to the edge of the bars and wrapping his hands around them like he could pry them apart. "You came to see me?"

"I guess I did," Kurt said, grinning suddenly. He slipped his hands over Blaine's. "Blaine. We have to get you out of this." Blaine's face fell despairingly.

"We can't. Kurt, there's no way out. We've been planning for hours."

"There's always a way."

Blaine shook his head, withdrawing his hands. "I'm sorry, Kurt. There's no way."

"_You're _sorry? You're _sorry? _Well, stop being sorry! And while you're at it, stop being such a wimp because there is _always _something and if there is one person left to fight for a cause it is still a _cause. _Now Blaine Anderson, I suggest you quit lying curled on the floor like a pansy because, damn it, if I see you walk to your death without a fight I swear to God I will _kick your sorry ass." _

Kurt _spat _out the last four words of his speech and sighed, pressing a hand to one of his reddening cheeks. Blaine stared at him, openmouthed.

"Sorry," Kurt said meekly. "I may have gotten carried away."

Blaine shook his head, reaching a hand out to brush the hair out of Kurt's face, like he'd done before. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he thought. Kurt could see the gears in his head working as a plan began to form in his head.

"First things first," he said quietly. "Kurt, I want you having no part in this."

"But-"

"Shh." Blaine pressed a soft but firm finger to Kurt's lips, trying desperately not to let the softness of them distract him. "No. I know you want to help and you've done _beautifully _getting us started, but I don't want you to get caught up in the criminal life I'm living. Helping us escape from jail is just the beginning. If they ever found out you'd helped us, you'd be arrested and hanged. We can't have that. So I need you to go, please, and I promise you that I won't return to lying curled on the floor like a...was it a pansy?" He grinned crookedly and Kurt couldn't help but smile back.

"Fine. Just...be careful."

The pacing Warbler saw them, then.

"Hey, who's that?"

"Go," Blaine hissed. Kurt nodded, standing and moving down the hallway as fast as he could with his ankle, ignoring the yells as Wes saw him.

"What the hell were you doing?"

"What was _he _doing here?"

Blaine didn't answer them, just staring after Kurt's retreating back. When he'd disappeared out of sight, he turned to the lot of them, all glaring at him, waiting for him to say something. He grinned, then, surprising them all.

"I've got a plan."

* * *

><p><em>AN: I tried to make it not boring, but I'm not sure if I succeeded. OH WELL. IT'S VERY LATE AND I PROMISED MY MOTHER I'D GO TO BED EONS AGO. _


	9. Escape

_A/N: Sorry my lovelies, I've had band and work lately, I'm working on it. Plus I suck at planning myself, so it's hard to write my characters doing it(: _

_Also, sidenote, I'm not sure if they still hung people in this era, but whatever, the town the Warblers are in obviously still does. Maybe they're behind the times, I don't know._

* * *

><p>It was early the next morning when Finn and the other sheriff stalked to the cell holding the Warblers with keys and ropes, preparing to escort them to their death. The ten men were sitting in two lines of five back to back, facing the walls on the left and right.<p>

"Hey!" Finn called. Ten heads snapped to face them at the same time, ten pairs of eyes glaring darkly at him. Finn had seen plenty of prisoners in his time, and he'd seen quite a few hangings, but he'd never seen them like this. He'd seen prisoners walk quietly and submissively to their deaths. He'd seen them walk tall, keeping their heads high until their last breath. He'd seen them struggle and thrash in the ropes, taking all of his strength to hold. But the Warblers looked...menacing. Their eyes burned, and as they stood all at once, they just looked _strong, _like nothing could sway them. Finn could honestly say he was a little worried. After all, they _were _the most famous group of ruffians in the States.

He took them by the wrists one by one-his back to a wall so none of them could catch him unaware-and tied them tightly enough that he couldn't fit his fingers beneath the ropes, let alone a knife (or some other rope-cutting device). He then roped them all together and began to lead them to the noose outside, where all the town had gathered to watch the hanging that would go down in history as the death of the leaders of the Warblers, the thieves who had terrorized hundreds for years. No more. Today was the day it would all end. The Warblers were nothing without their fearless leader.

* * *

><p>Kurt could see the town square from his window. A wooden palette was set up in the middle, a pole holding ten nooses. Next to them stood the hangman, his hands clasped calmly in front of him. It was a big day for him. He would be the one to pull the lever that killed the Warblers.<p>

The one that killed Blaine.

Directly below his window Kurt saw the crowd that had gathered outside the jail. The entire town had to be present. His parents were even going. Kurt had told them he wasn't going because it brought back unpleasant memories of being captured. In reality, he didn't dare go in case Blaine's plan didn't work.

No.

It was going to work. It had to. Maybe they were already gone.

Despite telling himself over and over that Blaine could handle this, his stomach still somersaulted when he saw the crowd part to let the line of ten men through, roped to each other. Kurt spotted Blaine's curly head at the back of the line. But...something was odd. The Warblers didn't look like prisoners being led to their death. They didn't have that look of hopeless resignation that most prisoners had. They looked...determined.

It wasn't over.

Kurt told himself to get away from the window, to stop torturing himself by watching. But something kept him there.

* * *

><p>Blaine stood taller, sneaking glances at the crowd surrounding them. He knew there was no way Kurt would show up to what could very likely be his death if this didn't work, but he looked anyway. Then, something caught his eye; a figure standing in a window. A brown haired boy with eyes so blue Blaine could see them from the street.<p>

Kurt. He felt his eyes widen a little and he turned his head quickly to the front, remembering the plan. Intimidate. When they were led up the stairs to stand in front of their individual nooses, he started the chorus of a song they all knew in his head.

_So raise your glass if you are wrong_

_In all the right ways_

_All my underdogs_

_We will never be, never be _

_Anything but loud_

_And nitty-gritty_

_Dirty little freaks_

They waited as their sentence was read. Blaine began to sing under his breath.

_Won't you come on and come on and _

_Raise your glass_

Slowly, the Warblers began to lift their tied hands in unison.

_Raise your glass_

Someone in the crowd noticed, then, pointing wildly and crying "Hey, what're they doing?"

The hangman stopped and looked at them. That same moment, Blaine yelled "GO!" And in one fluid motion the Warblers leaped into the air, grabbing their nooses and swinging feet first into the crowd. Finn and the hangman desperately tried to catch them, but every man in the town carried a gun on his person, and in just a few seconds every Warbler was armed. Every person in the crowd froze, many moving in front of their loved ones.

"Don't move," Wes snarled. "And don't try to follow us. We'll find you. I swear to God we will. I don't care who I kill, and I don't care if anyone dies today as long as it's not one of us." Slowly, the Warblers began to back away, their guns still pointed at the crowd.

They slipped between two of the buildings and they were gone.

But just before they disappeared, Blaine turned back to the brown-haired boy still watching from the window and raised his hand.

* * *

><p>"Where do we go now?" Thad gasped as each Warbler worked frantically to untie himself from the other. "How do we get out of here? There's just desert on all sides!"<p>

"We need horses, Wes," Curt hissed. "We can't escape on foot."

"Relax. All we need is a place to light a fire."

"A fire? Are you serious? There's no way we can get away with that, Wes."

"We'll wait until we're deep in the desert and send up smoke signals. If I've taught the Warblers anything about getting captured, they followed us at least far enough to know our general location."

"What if they _didn't, _Wes?"

"Then we _starve _and _die," _Wes growled. "Just shut up and _trust me." _

Blaine wasn't listening. He was thinking about Kurt. They would wait for the cover of nightfall to leave. Would there be time to say goodbye?

"Shhh! Listen!"

"Everyone, get in your houses! I assure you we will have them captured before sundown. Until they are caught, I need every able-bodied man with a gun to aid our search. Everyone else, stay inside until I give the all clear. No exceptions."

"It's the sheriff!" David whispered.

Wes snickered. "He doesn't know that by clearing the streets he made it much easier for us to escape. We may not even need to alert the other Warblers if we can get some horses."

Blaine felt his stomach twist guiltily. He wasn't sure why, he'd never felt this way about stealing before. He'd always been able to do it without a thought.

"Look, over there!" Wes pointed a hundred yards away to a cellar behind a nearby house. "We can hide there until nightfall."

Wes leaned around the corner of the building they were hiding behind.

"Coast is clear. Go!" They flew across the alleyway one by one, dragging their ropes behind them to erase their tracks in the dust. Wes and Blaine lifted the lid of the boxlike structure while the others slid into the darkness. They followed after them, leaning against the shelves of canned goods and cooking supplies. Wes sighed, the only sound in the heavy silence.

"Now, we wait."

* * *

><p><em>So, I meant for this to be the last chapter, but obviously that didn't happen. I have a problem with ending stories. Welp, hope you liked it anyway. You guys are awesome, mwah. 3<em>


	10. One Last Time

_A/N: Ahhhhhhh, I'm always bad about updating. For the millionth time, I'm sorry. _

_Thanks for all your reviews, you guys! YOU'RE AMAZING. 333333333 Love and cookies._

**_WARNING: SMUT SMUT SMUT. For those of you who don't like smut, I will put three asterisks at the part before the smut starts. _**

* * *

><p>Kurt had seen the whole thing from his window. He had watched the Warblers steal the guns and disappear behind a building like they did this kind of thing every day. He sank onto his bed, letting his emotions wash over him. He didn't know what it was he was feeling; he was limp with relief that Blaine had survived, and at the same time he just felt hopeless. He'd never see Blaine again, he was sure of it. He fell back onto his bed and closed his eyes. He waited for the tears, but none came.<p>

When he opened his eyes again, it was dark. He must've fallen asleep. He blinked sleepily, listening for the sound that had woken him. Yelling. He walked to the window, identifying the flickering light of torches. A search party. The men were looking for them. He felt a fresh surge of fear at this thought. _Oh, Blaine, _he thought desperately. _Where are you? _

* * *

><p>Blaine had been sitting in the darkness for several hours now, and it had given him time to do a lot of thinking. He couldn't stay in the Warblers. He didn't belong with them anymore. There was something about the things they did that just didn't sit right with him now. He knew it was Kurt and all his goodness that had awoken these doubts in him. Kurt fascinated him. He was intelligent, and funny, and talented, and beautiful, and <em>perfect. <em>Blaine closed his eyes and hugged his knees to his chest. Whether he felt right about all this or not, there was no way he'd be able to escape the authorities now. They knew his face, and even if he wanted to live a normal life, he couldn't. Suddenly it was hard for him to swallow. He'd never see Kurt again. It hadn't really hit him until now, and as he held back the tears that threatened to fall, he thought that if he could just see him one more time, everything would be okay.

"Blaine," Wes hissed, yanking him out of his reverie, "Go check and see if the coast is clear." Blaine felt his way up the stairs to the door, poking his head out to check.

"It's clear."

"Now's our chance."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Thad asked anxiously. "What if they see us?"

"Then _run, _you idiot," Wes snarled. "We'll split up. Find your own way out of here. Steal only what you need and don't be seen. Meet at the trading post in McKinley."

There was a murmured agreement. McKinley was just the next town over. It wasn't far. They could be there by morning if they hurried.

"Good," Wes said gruffly. "If you're not there by noon tomorrow, we're leaving you."

Thad opened his mouth to protest, but Wes was already heading up the stairs. Blaine felt his heart start pounding.

Could this be the last chance he'd been hoping for?

* * *

><p>Kurt awoke with a start. The first thing he registered were eyes. Hazel eyes, shining green in the moonlight coming in his window. The second thing he registered was the soft finger pressed gently to his lips. Someone was standing by his bed.<p>

"Shhh," the figure whispered. "Kurt, it's me."

Kurt reached up, threading his fingers between Blaine's. "I know."

They just looked at each other for a moment, Blaine stroking his thumb across the back of Kurt's hand.

"How did you get past them?" Kurt whispered.

Blaine shrugged. "Comes with being a Warbler. You learn things."

"Like how to scale a building?" Kurt asked, the side of his mouth quirking up.

"You have a conveniently placed window," Blaine whispered, smiling. Kurt gave a soft laugh.

"I just came...to say goodbye," Blaine said, his voice catching at the end. Kurt's smile faded.

"I know that too, Blaine Anderson." Kurt reached up, moving one hand into Blaine's soft curls. Slowly, he guided Blaine's head forward, towards his own. Their lips met in the gentlest of kisses. Blaine placed a hand on Kurt's cheek, deepening the kiss. Their lips parted in unison, Kurt's tongue reaching out to poke curiously at Blaine's bottom lip. Blaine sighed, his hand moving slowly from Kurt's cheek to his neck, to his chest, and down. He moved his other hand up to join the first, his callused fingers catching at Kurt's nipples as they hardened under his hands. Kurt's breath hitched in his throat at the sensation. Blaine shifted his body onto the bed, one leg on either side of his lean body. He reached down to the hem of Kurt's shirt, glancing up at him for consent. Kurt nodded, his breath coming more quickly now. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, Blaine lifted the shirt, exposing Kurt's porcelain stomach. He bit his lip, just looking. Kurt was so beautiful. He smiled hesitantly, hooking his thumbs into Blaine's belt loops.

"Now you," he whispered. Blaine unbuttoned his shirt, tossing it to the floor before removing the thin undershirt. Kurt could do nothing but stare at Blaine's exposed torso, rippling with muscle and dark hair. He reached out to Blaine with shaking fingers, _aching _to just touch him. Anywhere. He placed his palm flat on Blaine's chest and suddenly, everything went up in flames. Delicious, dangerous flames. Heat coursed through them, connecting them, and Kurt sat up, knotting his fingers roughly in Blaine's curls and _yanking _him down on top of him, crushing and hot. His chest hair was scratchy against his smooth skin, and for some reason there was nothing more attractive to him. Blaine tasted better than anything or anyone, and Kurt would happily live on Blaine for the rest of his life if he could. It was heaven, lying beneath him, his hands pressed desperately to Blaine's back, pulling him closer and closer.

Blaine moved his waist into Kurt's, then, and both of them gasped, breaking the kiss. Blaine leaned his head slowly against Kurt's, staring into his eyes before doing it again. Kurt moaned, low in his throat, his hips twitching up to meet Blaine's involuntarily.

"Is that okay?" Blaine asked softly. Kurt could only nod. Blaine reached down to Kurt's pajama pants, tugging at the waistband. Asking permission. Kurt placed one hand against Blaine's cheek, moving him gently to look at him.

"Please," he whispered hoarsely. Blaine bit his lip, removing Kurt's pants bit by bit. First, just below his waist, exposing the top of the patch of dark hair. Lower. Lower. His fingers brushed against Kurt's cock, straining against the thin material of Kurt's pajamas and Kurt let out another moan, shoving his fist into his mouth to quiet himself. Then, his pants were off, lying at the foot of the bed, and Kurt was completely naked.

Blaine had never seen anything more perfect in his entire life.

Kurt's face was flushed, his cheeks a delicate shade of pink. His blue eyes were dark in the moonlight, his pupils blown with lust. His lips, his perfectly soft lips were parted ever so slightly. His graceful body sprawled out in front of Blaine, his cock hard and leaking onto his stomach with need. Blaine leaned down and instinctively swept his tongue across the small pool of precome there. Kurt bit his lip, trying not to moan again. Blaine trailed his fingers along the inside of Kurt's thigh, teasing.

"Kurt, you're so beautiful." Blaine leaned down, kissing Kurt's left hipbone, and then the right. "I...I want to taste you. Can I?" Kurt nodded vigorously.

"Please, Blaine," he moaned. "Please." Carefully, tentatively, Blaine closed his mouth around Kurt's cock. Kurt's eyes widened and he turned his head to bite his pillow, fighting the urge to scream at how _amazing _Blaine's mouth was. His hips twitched up again, and Blaine reached an arm up to hold Kurt down, adjusting his hold on Kurt's cock. He swept his tongue across the slit, pressing just under the head. His other hand wrapped around the part he couldn't reach with his mouth, squeezing. Kurt _whined, _his hands fisting into the covers and his back arching with pleasure.

"_OH, Blaine," _he groaned. Blaine pulled his mouth off Kurt's cock, leaning back up to Kurt's mouth. Kurt's chest heaved beneath him as he pressed a finger to Kurt's lips again.

"Shhhh," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to Kurt's lips before sinking his mouth back around Kurt's cock. Kurt grabbed his pillow, pressing it against his face. Blaine sucked harder, taking Kurt as deeply as he could into his throat. He hummed, low in the back of his throat. The vibrations around Kurt's cock were too much for him, and he sat up, quickly pulling Blaine off. Blaine blinked plaintively at him.

"I wasn't finished," he said. Kurt laughed breathlessly.

"If you hummed like that anymore, _I _would've been." Blaine grinned at him, leaning forward to kiss him. Kurt's graceful fingers latched onto the button of his jeans, unbuttoning and beginning to pull. Soon they were off-along with Blaine's boots and socks-lying on the floor next to his shirt. Blaine fell on top of him, their bodies pressing together. Blaine sighed at how heavenly Kurt felt pressed against him. He kissed him, grinding his waist against Kurt's. They both sighed with relief at the friction, moving faster and faster. Then, Kurt stopped.

"What is it?"

"Blaine, I want you inside me."

Blaine stared, his heart pounding wildly at the thought.

"Please," Kurt added, his eyes begging.

"I...I've never done it before," Blaine said, casting his eyes downward shamefully. Kurt kissed him.

"I haven't either. It's okay." Blaine nodded, staring into Kurt's eyes.

"You or me?" Blaine whispered.

"You do it."

Blaine nodded again, his fingers trembling as he brought them to Kurt's lips. Kurt sucked them into his mouth, running his tongue around them, getting them good and wet. Blaine moved his hand down.

"You're sure?"

Kurt nodded.

Blaine's wet fingers traced over Kurt's hole once, twice. He pressed in, one. Slowly. Just the tip. Then farther. Farther. He was in up to the knuckle when it started to hurt. Kurt gasped, pressing his hand flat against Blaine's chest.

"You okay?" Blaine asked, pausing worriedly.

"Fine," Kurt gasped. "Just...go slow."

Blaine pressed in a little farther. "Just relax," he whispered. "Try pressing against my finger."

Kurt did, wincing at the burning sensation. After a few seconds, the pain began to subside as his muscles relaxed. Blaine withdrew his finger, slipping it into his mouth to get it wet again. Again, he reached in, slowly. Farther. Then, he turned his hand, hooking his finger gently upward, touching Kurt's prostate. His body jerked, a gasp escaping him.

"Holy _shit," _Kurt gasped. Blaine pulled all the way out before slipping another finger in. Kurt pressed against Blaine's finger again until the pain subsided. They did the same with three fingers. Blaine pulled out, then, moving to kiss Kurt's lips.

"You ready?"

"Yeah."

"Uhm," Blaine's voice shook, "It might be..do you want to turn around...?" Kurt shook his head.

"No. I want to see you." Blaine nodded.

"Right."

Gently, he moved Kurt's knees apart, brushing the head of his cock across Kurt's hole, stretched and waiting for him. They locked eyes, and Kurt nodded. Blaine began to push in. It was _very _different from Blaine's fingers. Blaine was _thick_ and long and BIG. And it _hurt. _Kurt closed his eyes, bit his lip, and took it. Blaine's body trembled with the willpower it took not to press all the way in and fuck Kurt as hard as he could. He was so _tight _and _wet _and _goddamn perfect. _But he held out. And he waited. Minutes passed. Then Kurt leaned up ever so slightly and whispered one word in his ear:

"Move."

Blaine did, pulling out only a bit before pushing back in. Gently. Letting Kurt get used to it.

"Harder."

Blaine pushed harder this time, leaning his head into Kurt's neck. Kurt felt _so _good around him. Blaine began to move faster, and faster, pushing in harder with each stroke. He moved Kurt's leg, lifting it over his shoulder. With the angle change, he hit Kurt's prostate with every stroke, harder and harder and faster and faster. Kurt couldn't contain his moans this time, his knuckles turning white with the force with which he clutched the sheets. Their bodies slid against each other, slick with sweat. Blaine's hands clung to Kurt's hips, pressing hard enough to bruise. Kurt liked the idea of Blaine leaving marks. Something to remember him by. His leg slipped off of Blaine's shoulder, but Blaine kept going, his hips pounding against Kurt's. His head fell to Kurt's chest and his lips latched onto a nipple, sucking and biting gently. His hand wrapped roughly around Kurt's cock and squeezed. He whispered, then:

"Kurt."

Blaine's rough voice was enough to bring Kurt over the edge. He felt heat coiling in his stomach and he was coming, hot liquid pooling on his stomach. His body convulsed and he cried out, clenching around Blaine's cock. He felt Blaine's body sink into his, Blaine shaking as he came too, letting his cock slide of out Kurt. They lay against each other for a moment, just wanting one more minute with each other. Kurt traced Blaine's spine gently with his fingers, just holding him. He wanted more than anything to stay here forever. He'd do anything to just have this moment last forever. He felt his eyes fill as reality began to sink in. He was never going to see Blaine again.

Almost as if Blaine knew what he was thinking, he sat up, retrieving his clothes. He dug through the pockets of his pants, pulling out his handkerchief and cleaning them up. Kurt could only watch, blinking hard against the tears stinging his eyes. Blaine slipped his undershirt on and his boots, leaning down to pull the covers up over Kurt's waist. He pressed his lips to Kurt's, giving him one last kiss. Kurt swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. Blaine stroked his thumb across Kurt's cheek, just once.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I know," Kurt whispered shakily, smiling a watery smile. "I love you too." Blaine opened the window and slipped out as silently as he had come in. Kurt jumped out of bed and rushed to the window to watch him go. Blaine slid down the roof and onto the ground, looking back only once to lift his hand in a wave, as he'd done twice before. Kurt waved back.

When he had disappeared out of sight, Kurt turned back to his room, feeling empty and lost. He spotted something on the ground, then. An overshirt. Blaine's.

He lifted it to his nose, breathing in the scent of Blaine.

Kurt let the tears fall.

* * *

><p><em>THAT. Was HARD. I've never written smut before, so I don't know how that went. Before you kill me, this is not the end. I can't do that to my characters (or rather, Fox's). It kills me that they don't get happy endings. <em>

_So don't worry! This story is Klaine, not Kurt and Blaine and Their Separate Lives Lived Separately. Phew. Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Byeeee3_


	11. Moving On

_A/N: Band. That's all I have to say. I'm really, really sorry for the wait. I suck. A lot. _

* * *

><p>Kurt was numb. He'd cried for hours after Blaine had disappeared out the window, clutching his shirt to his chest like it was the only thing keeping him afloat. He felt like hew as drowning, his despair and longing swallowing him whole, crushing him like a rowboat in a hurricane. All he'd wanted was one last moment with Blaine, one last kiss, but now he felt that it might have been better not to have had one at all. He'd never felt so <em>broken <em>in all his life. He'd been rejected before. He'd had his heart broken before. He'd been sad, but never before had he been absolutely _shattered_, like he would never heal. His heart would always belong to Blaine, and this thought left him hopeless and empty. No one else would ever compare.

The past week hadn't registered in Kurt's conscious mind. He'd gone through it in a daze. There was a brief moment of excitement in the town when the Warblers hadn't been caught, but after days of no sightings the sheriffs figured they were someone else's problem now. Everything was back to normal. Kurt at dinner every night with his family and relaxed, playing the part of the student on vacation, visiting Mercedes and chatting amiably with Finn. But his laughter was fake and his smiles never reached his eyes. Everyone seemed to sense something wasn't right, but if it was ever addressed Kurt would brush it off with a sunny smile and a well-rehearsed "I'm fine" or witty retort. Kurt retreated inside himself, becoming more protective of his emotions than he ever had been before. Every night he wore Blaine's shirt to bed, torn between desperately clinging to the memory of him and just wanting to forget about him altogether so he could move on with his life. It was weeks, though, before Blaine's shirt stopped smelling like him, and weeks more before Kurt stopped crying himself to sleep each night, Blaine's memory wrapped tightly around him.

* * *

><p>Blaine was empty. He'd climbed out that window, slipping deftly down the roof and landing softly on the ground. He turned and ran, then, feeling his chest constrict more and more the farther he got from Kurt. He had to stop, finally, his chest too tight to breathe. He dropped to his knees behind a nearby building, covering his mouth to hold in the loud gasps coming from his attempts to breathe around the lump in his throat. He pressed his fists to his eyes like he was trying to push the tears back in. Slowly, he calmed, his breathing returning to normal. He wouldn't think about Kurt. He couldn't afford the distraction right now. He located the nearest stable and sneaked in, easily coaxing a horse outside. He had a way with animals, and this horse seemed particularly friendly. Perfect. He pulled himself up onto her back, bareback (wanting to steal as little as possible) and nudged her sides gently. She walked a bit, the two of them getting used to each other. A few minutes and another nudge later, they were off, flying out of town at a full gallop. No one even noticed him leaving.<p>

It wasn't until Blaine found the other Warblers at the trading post that he realized he'd left his overshirt at Kurt's house.

"Where's your shirt?" Thad had asked.

"Took it off," Blaine said shortly. "Left it somewhere by accident." Technically true. Thad seemed to accept this answer and was quiet.

They waited until sunrise before leaving. As they exited their hiding place one by one, Blaine turned to look at McKinley fading on the horizon. He'd never see Kurt again. He felt the lump in his throat again; swallowing suddenly became a chore. Each breath took effort, but he kept breathing, slowly, until the lump disappeared and he could inhale and exhale with relative ease. The last thing he needed was for the Warblers to see him cry.

It was only after every single one of them had fallen asleep after arriving at an abandoned barn that he allowed himself a few silent tears.

The Warblers had to be much more careful now. They'd been captured, something that had never happened before. The chest was no longer in their possession, either, and Wes was growing more and more agitated. He'd taken to to pacing the floor in the abandoned barn just outside of town they were calling headquarters, mumbling nonsense to himself and screaming at anyone that disturbed him. Occasionally someone would leave to try and find game to kill or wait by the road for travelers to steal from, but other than that, there was no movement. Everyone in the camp was silent. There was no singing, no laughing. Only the crackling of the fire they lit for supper and a cough once in a while.

All Blaine could think about was Kurt. The stuff he'd always thought about, like his soft hair and his smooth skin and his perfect blue eyes. But now there were new things to think about, like the taste of Kurt's beautiful pink lips and the quiet noises he made when they kissed and the way he _squirmed _when Blaine was on top of him. Blaine couldn't stop thinking about them. They were what got him through the day, but they were also what caused the throbbing ache in his chest that hadn't gone away since he'd left Kurt's room.

Why wasn't this _easier? _

* * *

><p>The Warblers laid low for a long time. Kurt searched the newspapers for them every day those first few weeks, looking for something, <em>anything <em>to give him information about Blaine. His family stopped noticing his false smiles and started mistaking them for real ones. Gradually it became easier to function without thinking of Blaine's rough hands in his own, Blaine's curly hair tickling his cheek when they hugged. It got even easier when he and Mercedes took the train back to school after their break. No one else had experienced such a change in their lives. Everyone else was just fine, and being around all those "just fine" people allowed Kurt a sense of normalcy. He stopped checking the newspapers, and he didn't wear Blaine's shirt to bed anymore (though he had brought it with him just in case).

Then, as he and Mercedes sat down to breakfast one day at their favorite coffee shop months later, he noticed the headline of a newspaper another customer was holding.

**_THE WARBLERS ARE BACK. _**

He nearly dropped his coffee. His eyes went wide, his heart plummeting into his stomach. There was no picture, but the bold headline spoke for itself. Blaine. It had been weeks since he'd thought about him in any other context than late at night when he was feeling most lonely or in barely remembered dreams.

His feet moved of their own accord over to the man. He heard a voice that wasn't his stammer, "E-excuse me sir, I was wondering if I could have that first page?"

The man glanced from him to the page, then back. There was a rustling of paper as he handed it over. "Sure, sonny. I'll just need it back when yer finished."

"Absolutely."

He sat down with Mercedes, who was staring at him suspiciously.

"What's wrong with you?"

He held up the paper wordlessly. She still didn't know about him and Blaine, but her eyes widened anyway. After all, the Warblers _had _kidnapped them.

"You think they still want the chest?"

Kurt shrugged, his eyes returning to the paper, scanning the article. Apparently they had robbed a bank not far from here. His heart fluttered from its position in his stomach. Could Blaine really be close by? But they had said goodbye. Forever. Love or not, Blaine was still a criminal, and Kurt was still...well, not. They couldn't be together.

"I bet it's the chest. This is just to get some attention, let the public know they're still out there," Mercedes was saying worriedly.

"Mercedes, the chest is safe in the most secure bank in the state. There's no way they'll get it there," Kurt said, trying to get the image of hazel eyes and curly hair out of his head. Mercedes shifted nervously in her seat.

"If you say so."

"What's in that chest, anyway?"

Mercedes didn't look at him when she said, "I don't know. My parents never told me." Kurt was too preoccupied with Blaine to press the issue, but filed this away for examination later.

For some reason, the fact that the Warblers were stealing and committing _crimes _was put out of his head. All he could think about was Blaine, and how he might get to see him. He didn't care where, he just wanted to feel those arms around him again.

* * *

><p>A man leaned against the wall of the Lima Heights bank, pulling the cowboy hat he was wearing low over his eyes so no one would recognize him. He watched another person walk by with their nose buried in that morning's paper and he grinned to himself at the sight of the headline.<p>

_**THE WARBLERS ARE BACK. **_

He pushed lazily away from the wall and gave a whistle. Three short notes. It would've sounded meaningless to anyone standing near. Anyone, that is, except for the men stationed throughout the area. Under bushes, atop roofs, behind buildings. Twenty people slipped out from their various hiding places and came slinking over.

The door to the bank opened, and the teller looked up.

"Can I help ya?"

"I believe you can," a short man in the cowboy hat said quietly, a small smirk on his face.

"What d'you need?" the teller said, beginning to sense that something was wrong. His suspicions were confirmed when the owner of the hat tilted it up, revealing dark hazel eyes that mirrored the ones on the wanted posters.

"Everything," Blaine Anderson said.

* * *

><p>For all Kurt's anxiety, he and Blaine didn't see each other for the several weeks. Several weeks in which the Warblers robbed more and more banks, making the newspapers almost every day. Towns neighboring the ones they robbed were in a state of panic. People everywhere attempted to withdraw their money from the banks, but they stopped the flow of money in and out everywhere. They were in lockdown. Kurt grew more and more anxious, as did Mercedes. She talked nonstop about the chest when she and Kurt were alone, worrying frantically that it would be stolen. Kurt found it hard to pay attention to her when his thoughts were centered around a certain cowboy. Hadn't he instilled some doubt in Blaine? Some wish to be good? He thought Blaine would try, at least. And now he seemed to be leading the operations. He admitted to himself, late one night while he was studying, that he had hoped. He'd hoped Blaine would somehow become good and become cleared of all his charges so they could be together and live happily ever after. He could've kicked himself for thinking that way. Stupid. He was more logical than that. He never should have given himself so readily to Blaine. Never. He wrapped his arms around his stomach, feeling his eyes prick with tears. Blaine had probably just been using him anyway. So he had an ally on the other side or something. Or maybe it was something less than that; maybe he had just wanted sex. He'd said he'd loved Blaine. And Blaine had said it back. Surely he wasn't that good an actor. Surely. The tears began to spill over now, and Kurt laid his head on his arms miserably, stifling his sobs with his sleeves. He'd never felt so <em>worthless.<em>

* * *

><p>Another week passed. And another, and another. Kurt grew used to seeing the Warblers in the news, just like he'd grown used to living without Blaine. Everyone else continued to worry relentlessly about the Warblers. Who would be next? was the big question floating around every town. Another break came around and Kurt and Mercedes were going home again. This time, though, there was considerably more tension. What if the Warblers got wind of Mercedes traveling? What if they thought she was carrying the chest again? Surely not. Surely they'd be more well informed. Still, they sat in silence together, hands entwined, until the train ride was over.<p>

Kurt greeted his dad and Carole and Finn eagerly. He'd missed them, and the last time he'd seen them hardly counted with all the brooding he'd been doing. Well, he was over that now. He was ready to move on. What had he been thinking, investing so much time in a criminal? He didn't need him.

He didn't need anybody.

* * *

><p>Blaine and Wes were standing in front of the Warblers, gathered in the abandoned barn they'd hidden in all those months ago. It had become incredibly useful to them, especially lately with all the thieving they were doing. They needed a place to put things. Money, specifically. So much money.<p>

After Blaine's plan got them out of jail so smoothly, he became the one they went to for ideas. He started planning every heist they did, no matter how small, and he was good at it. Their jobs had never gone so well. Because of this, Blaine rapidly rose in rank in the Warblers. Now, he and Wes worked alongside each other with the same amount of authority. Wes didn't like it. Not one bit. But he couldn't kick him out or demote him. The men liked him too much, and he was becoming too powerful. And too hard to read. He was unpredictable. After the whole McKinley fiasco, he'd retreated, his emotions and thoughts an absolute mystery. He was relentless, stealing anything and everything. He had his eye set on the ultimate prize. And while he told Wes it was the chest-while he preached to ALL the Warblers that it was the chest they were after-Wes sensed that Blaine didn't really care about the money. For some reason, he seemed to just be getting a sick pleasure from all this.

Those kinds of people were dangerous.

"Warblers!" Blaine thundered. Everyone instantly went silent. "The chest has been located. Out of fear, the owners will be transporting it to a higher security bank overseas. They plan to ship it tomorrow to the coast. Little do they know, it won't make it that far." His face twisted into a grin. "Now, they have thirty men on horses guarding the carriage. We plan to intercept it before it's even started its journey. Jeff, Nick, you'll come in from the sides-"

As Blaine continued to outline his plan, Wes watched him closely. It was genius, as always. But this was the end. It was the final step in the master plan. If this was successful, they could retire forever. And with Blaine, plans never failed.

But Wes couldn't help but wonder, what was next for the younger Warbler? Would he retire with the rest of them?

Wes watched the way the Warbler's eyes sparkled mischievously as he described the plan. He watched as the rest of the men's faces changed into masks of determination. He knew in the back of his mind that Blaine could get them to follow him to the ends of the earth.

And there was nothing he could do to stop him.

* * *

><p>Kurt was having a good day. He'd woken up early and made breakfast for Carole and Burt and Finn and it had been delicious, if he said so himself. He was on his way to see Mercedes. They were going to go visit her friend Noah Puckerman, the owner of the saloon in town. Mercedes said it wasn't your normal saloon. There was singing and dancing and drinks other than whiskey. Apparently he made only the best. Kurt whistled as he walked, practically skipping. He hadn't had a day this good in a long time.<p>

As he rounded the corner, he noticed the town square was particularly busy today. Well, it was lunchtime. He wrinkled his nose, not wanting to fight the crowds to get to Mercedes's house. He decided to take a shortcut, ducking behind the bank. There was a carriage parked there, with at least twenty or thirty men posted around it, all on horses, all armed with a rifle and two pistols each. Kurt gulped. What could be in that carriage? Two or three of the guards stepped forward.

"Sorry, kid, no passin' through here today. Best be on your way." Kurt turned quickly, walking at a brisk pace in the opposite direction. He was moving so fast that he didn't see the man in the cowboy hat coming toward him until they were running into each other head on. Kurt fell, landing on his ass in the dirt. The stranger was a short man, but apparently rather stout because he had barely budged when Kurt had slammed into him. He stuck out his hand for Kurt to take and helped him up.

"I'm so sorry!" Kurt apologized. The stranger made a strange strangled noise before stuttering out one word.

"K...Kurt?" The man tipped his cowboy hat up, revealing his wildly curly hair and hazel eyes that sucked all the air out of Kurt's lungs.

"Blaine?"

_Oh, shit. _

* * *

><p><em>OKAY! Nother chapter down. Hopefully one or two to go, but I said that to myself three chapters ago. WHY CAN'T I END THINGS. <em>

_Anyway. Don't worry about Blaine's seemingly changed personality. You'll see. And I'll try to post more often. But I always say that, so no promises. On the bright side, band IS almost over so...maybe I'll try and write smutty one shots for you. Or fluffy ones. And I have another idea for a long fic that just fell into my head, so. THINGS TO COME. yay. _

_Also, you guys are amazing for not complaining about how long it's been. I would, if I were you. So thank you for nto doing that. Here is my heart: 3333. You can have it. ALL OF IT. _

_That is all, mwah. _


	12. Forever

_Ahhhhhh, another long wait. I've resigned myself to just having long waits between chapters, because I'm a terrible person._

_Okay, ladies and gentlemen. This is it. This is the last chapter. The final frontier. The End. And it's been quite a ride, especially since I never finish anything. This is my first fic that's had any sort of success and it's all cause of you lovely people. So thank you for encouraging me and making me want to write. I started this for the hell of it and you guys made me finish it. Thank you thank you thank you. You're all wonderful and excellent, and I hope you'll stick around, even though my posting schedule is so erratic it would make a squirrel have a heart attack. :) _

_Here we go._

_**Disclaimer: I own everything. Glee, the characters, the actors, and all the ideas. It's all mine. Also I'm kidding.**_

* * *

><p><em>Oh, shit.<em>

Kurt's heart flew into his throat, his stomach twisting painfully. Blaine had changed so much, even in just a few months. His eyes were darker, and empty of all emotion. Kurt thought he'd seen a flicker when Blaine had first recognized him, but it was gone now. There were dark circles under his eyes, too, like he hadn't slept once these past months. He hadn't shaved in a while, and his face was scruffy and dirty. He looked _more _muscular now, if that was possible, his plaid overshirt clinging to his thick torso. He was intimidating, and Kurt knew that he had become someone to reckon with. Was he Blaine anymore?

"You haven't changed," Blaine said quietly. Kurt blinked, forcing himself to breathe.

"You have."

Blaine looked down, silent. Just as he was about to open his mouth and try to say _something_, a blond head poked around the corner.

_"Blaine," _Riker hissed. "What the hell are you doing? Let's _go."_

Blaine closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyebrows crinkling in frustration. "I'm coming." Riker raised his eyebrows, beckoning frantically.

"Come on, then!" Blaine held up his hand, flashing a glare at Riker.

"Stand aside," Blaine said sharply, turning his glare on Kurt. Kurt took a step back.

"W-what?"

"Stand aside," Blaine repeated harshly.

"I..." Blaine didn't wait. He placed a hand on Kurt's shoulder and shoved him roughly to the side of the alley.

"Don't follow me," he snarled, whirling around and following Riker around the back side of the bank.

_"Blaine!" _Kurt cried desperately after him. The other man didn't turn around.

Kurt sank to the ground against the wall and began to sob.

* * *

><p>Blaine's chest was tight as he went to join the others behind the bank. His breathing was shaky and uneven, and he felt vaguely nauseated. All he could hear was Kurt's anguished cry in his ears, and the echoes of his sobs. He'd had to do it, though. He'd finally done it. He'd gotten over Kurt. He'd stopped dreaming about him, he'd stopped thinking about him, he'd stopped crying pathetically every night because it hurt him so much. He'd encased his heart in stone, barring out friendships and affection and sympathy and it was <em>working <em>for him. He was practically the leader of the Warblers. He'd come so far, and now, seeing Kurt once, just _seeing him, _and his heart was throbbing, cracking in his chest. He couldn't think about it anymore. He wouldn't make it if he did.

There was just no _point. _They couldn't be anything, it wasn't possible. And he had come to terms with that. It was time Kurt did too.

He put it from his mind and focused on the plan. So far, everything was going smoothly. The guards were overtaken easily and quietly, one by one. The Warblers slipped into the guards' uniforms and tied them up in their underwear, still out cold. Silently they fell into their roles as guards, cramming into the carriage and stationing themselves in their proper places. Wes and Blaine took the reins, and they were off. Quickly and silently they flew through the town. No one stopped them. No one questioned them. No one even looked at them twice. They crossed the border of the little town without even a hint of an issue.

Part one of the plan was complete.

* * *

><p>Kurt was a mess when he arrived at Mercedes's house. His eyes were red, leftover tears drying on his face. His clothes were dirty where he'd sat in the dust and he knew his hair was absolutely ridiculous. But he couldn't bring himself to care. About <em>anything. <em>He felt his heart breaking all over again, and he knew he'd held out on that last hope, that last tiny bit of hope fluttering in his chest, that he and Blaine would meet again and fall into each other's arms and everything would be perfect again. But that hadn't happened. Blaine had barely looked at him. It was like they'd never known each other. Like they'd never been _anything _to each other, when really, they'd been everything. Or so Kurt thought. It was looking more like he'd been right when he'd thought Blaine was using him. It was clear to him now. He and Blaine were nothing, and that was all they'd ever be.

"Kurt!" Mercedes cried worriedly when she opened the door. She grabbed his face in both hands and looked into his eyes. "Hon, what's wrong?"

"It's-I-" Kurt couldn't form sentences. He felt himself beginning to cry again. "I-_Blaine."_

"Who's Blaine?" Mercedes asked gently. "Is he someone from here? Did he-" She stopped. That name sounded so familiar. Something clicked in her head, then. _"Blaine?" _she repeated. "Warbler Blaine? I-Kidnapped-You-And-I-Do-Horrible-Things-Blaine?"

Kurt choked out another sob, nodding. Mercedes felt her face turning red with anger. "Is he _here? _What did he do?" Her eyes widened, her expression darkening. "Did he-did he hurt you?"

"No!" Kurt gasped. "At least...not like that. Not...not what you think. He would never-" he paused. He didn't really know Blaine anymore. He buried his face in Mercedes's shoulder as another wave of tears overtook him. She held him, leading him carefully to her room and sitting him down on the bed.

"Okay, okay, shhh. Start at the beginning."

* * *

><p>The Jones's had planned quite well for moving their chest. There were three checkpoints along the way at which the carriage <em>must <em>stop, or an alarm would be set off. The Warblers wouldn't be present at any, allowing all hell to effectively break loose. They didn't have time for checkpoints. They would be too busy stealing the key for the chest and happily retiring forever. Of course, the plan to steal the key wasn't fool-proof. There was a lot of dealing with people involved, and people were often unpredictable, especially when they had something incredibly valuable they needed to protect. You never knew what people would do to save things that were important to them. And the Jones's definitely had something worth protecting in that chest.

Blaine didn't want to go back. He was afraid he'd see Kurt, and he didn't know if he could handle that. Everything had to go perfectly, and if Kurt was there, it would ruin everything. Blaine didn't know what he'd do if Kurt got involved in the danger. All he did know is that he couldn't watch Kurt get hurt. He couldn't. Even if they could never be together, he'd always protect Kurt. That's what he was doing by distancing himself from him, right? He was protecting Kurt from himself. This was better for both of them. Right?

* * *

><p>Mercedes listened to Kurt's story. From beginning to end. And she didn't judge him, she didn't yell at him, and she didn't scold him for falling so hard and so quickly for someone, let alone someone who committed <em>crimes <em>and _kidnapped _people. Even though the Warblers had been trying to steal something very important to her family for months now, she listened. And she understood. She'd seen Blaine, too. She'd been there, and she'd noticed that he seemed different than the others. But the Blaine Kurt was describing to her now, the one that had shoved him aside like he meant nothing, _that _sounded more like a Warbler. She let Kurt cry until he couldn't anymore. When he was quiet, she spoke.

"Kurt. Sweetie. I know you don't want to hear this, and I know it's too soon and the hurt is too fresh, but I just wanna tell you somethin. You need to move on, and I know you know that, but I just want you to hear it. You don't deserve that kind of treatment. From anyone, no matter how much they mean to you. And you need to forget about him and forget that he ever meant anything to you because he's trash and the absolute _scum _of the _earth. _He's nothing, and you're amazing. You deserve so much more. Okay?" She brushed the last tear off his face as he nodded. "Do you want to stay here tonight?" Kurt nodded again.

"I told my parents I was going to, anyway," he said softly, wiping at his red eyes. "Thank you for not disowning me."

"Baby, I'll never disown you, not if you fall in love with a _million _Warblers."

Kurt laughed. It was a small laugh, but it was a start. "I hope not."

She planted a kiss on his forehead. "Me too. Come on, I'll make you some tea."

"I'm sorry we didn't get to go out."

"Oh, please. We can go out any night. We'll just have a girls' night in instead."

Kurt smiled a little. Things looked bleak now, but if he thought about it, Blaine _was _just a boy. A stupid boy, who'd taken his heart and smashed it in two. He wouldn't take that kind of treatment. He was better than that. Kurt held his head up high and followed Mercedes to the kitchen, deciding right then and there that no matter how he felt, dammit, he was going to have fun tonight.

Mercedes put a pot of water on the stove and began to heat it up. Something occurred to her suddenly, and she turned.

"Kurt?"

"Mm-hmm?"

"Why were the Warblers here in the first place?"

Kurt felt his heart stop. He and Mercedes exchanged a look of horror.

"The chest."

* * *

><p>Outside the town, ten of the Warblers from the crew that hijacked the carriage continued on with it, taking it back to the barn where they had been ordered to guard it with their lives. Meanwhile, twenty other Warblers met up with Blaine, Wes, David, Jeff, Nick, and Thad and made their way back into town. They split up, ducking behind buildings and sneaking through alleyways. Some even hopped roofs. Silently, they surrounded the Jones' residence, blocking all methods of escape.<p>

"Remember," Blaine hissed, "Jones never lets the key off his person. We have to find him. If you meet anyone else, knock them out, tie them up, whatever, just don't kill anyone and don't take any hostages. Keep them _quiet. _Got it?"

There was a chorus of nods.

"Good. Go." Blaine went to work picking the front door lock, while Wes did the same to the back door. The others entered from the windows. The lock clicked under Blaine's practiced hands and he peered through the letterbox to make sure the coast was clear before entering. He listened. There were footsteps upstairs, and voices in the kitchen. The voice in the kitchen sounded distinctly female; he made his way to the stairs first. They weren't in view of the kitchen, easily accessible from where he was. He allowed himself a grim smile. This was almost _too _easy. There were three of them and twenty Warblers. They didn't stand a chance.

Behind the stairs, Wes had unlocked the back door and slipped around the side to follow Blaine. David, Jeff and Nick joined them. Blaine kept low, looking up the stairs ahead. There was a hallway, and five different doors. Only one was closed. They approached it, forcing themselves not to barge in and grab the inhabitants of the room with not a single thought to the other people in the house. Blaine put his hand on the doorknob and turned around, placing a finger over his lips to silence the others. He began to turn it.

Someone screamed.

* * *

><p>Mercedes had had her back to the room, facing the stove. She had just been planning with Kurt, deciding she must go to her father immediately and tell him about the Warblers' suspicious presence in the town. Kurt hadn't said anything since she'd turned around, which was very unlike him.<p>

"Kurt?" she'd asked. She turned, then, to find the room suddenly filled with at least ten Warblers, one of which had pinned Kurt's arms to his sides and clapped a large, sweaty hand over his mouth. She gasped, and just before another ran up to cover her mouth she managed to scream.

_They're here for the key._

She and Kurt struggled frantically, but they each had two or three Warblers attached to them and there was no way they were strong enough to fight that. The stairs creaked, then, straining under the sudden weight of the five Warblers sprinting down the stairs. The flew into the kitchen, the one in the lead red-faced and curly-haired, his hazel eyes blazing with fury.

_"What the hell is going on here?" _he thundered. His gaze swept around the room, landing on Kurt. The fire instantly left his eyes. "Kurt? What're you-"

He was cut off by a man and his wife entering the room.

"Mercedes? Sweetheart, what's-" Mrs. Jones let out a shriek at the sight of all the men in her home. She and her husband were instantly captured and restrained. They struggled as well, but like Mercedes and Kurt, they were trapped. Blaine turned away from Kurt to face the other Warblers.

"I _said _to keep them _quiet, _you idiots. What were you _thinking?" _He turned slowly in a circle, fixing each of them with an icy glare. He gestured at Mr. Jones. "Get the key. Someone could have heard by now."

One of the Warblers holding him patted the man's pockets and looked through every crevice of his jacket. "It's not here."

Blaine rolled his eyes and stalked over. "I'll do it myself." It was on a cord around the man's neck; Blaine yanked, hard, and it snapped. Mr. Jones grunted, resuming his attempts to free himself.

"Tie them up. We're leaving."

"What about these two?" A Warbler asked, nodding at Mercedes and Kurt. Blaine noticed Kurt staring at him and felt his heart twist at the look of pure hatred he'd directed at him.

"Them too," he said, fighting to keep his voice from faltering. The Warblers forced each of their charges into a chair, tying their hands tightly with the rope they'd brought specifically for this purpose. The Jones's and Kurt fought with them, writhing and attempting to scream for help all the while. But the Warblers were professionals. No one escaped, and no one had time to scream before another Warbler had gagged them. Blaine looked away so he wouldn't have to watch them tie Kurt up; as he did, he noticed Wes nodding at Thad. Thad nodded back and left, slipping out the back door. Blaine frowned.

"What was that?" he whispered to Wes.

"Nothing, all part of the plan," Wes whispered back. Before Blaine could answer, there was a knock at the door.

"Jones? Everything okay in there? Heard a scream," called a voice. Kurt knew it to be Finn, and his eyes widened hopefully before he could stop himself. Blaine saw, and turned to face Wes.

"It's the sheriff. We've got to go."

"First things first," Wes said as Thad returned, carrying a burlap sack, filled with smaller sacks. "Warblers, take these and drop them around the house as you leave." Warblers began to step forward.

"What are those?" Blaine hissed, panic rising in his throat. This was _not _all part of the plan.

Wes gave him a hard look. "Gunpowder."

_"What?"_

"Warblers. You know what gunpowder does best, don't you?"

They all stared at him, their mouths falling open.

"It burns."

They were frozen. The Warblers didn't _do _this. They didn't _kill._

The hostages eyes widened in horror.

_"DO IT!" _Wes roared_. _He snatched a bag out of Thad's hand and ripped it open, spilling it onto the floor. He lit a match and dropped it at his feet. Within seconds, a sea of fire began to spread from his feet to the rest of the Warblers standing nearby. They jumped back. _"_If you aren't with us, you're one of_ THEM." _Several Warblers followed Wes's lead, running to pour gunpowder in the other rooms. A few others stood stock still, torn between the only family they had and murder.

_"WES, THIS ISN'T PART OF THE PLAN!" _Blaine screamed.

_"_It is now," Wes shrieked wildly. "Stay here if you want." He reached out, ripping the key out of Blaine's hands. "This is all I need." He whirled around and ran, the back door slamming against the frame as he flung it open. The knocking on the door had turned into full-fledged banging as the sheriff heard the commotion inside and frantically tried to reach the trapped family. Blaine stood, unmoving, in the middle of the flames.

"Blaine!" David yelled. "What do we do?"

Blaine shook his head, clearing it. His eyes locked on Kurt, on his frozen, fearful face, and he made his decision.

"You have to make a choice, David. You're either with me or with Wes." He strode forward, yanking out his knife and working on the knots that tied Kurt. "And I'm not going to let them die."

David nodded, dodging the spreading fire to help Mercedes. Jeff and Nick, the only other two still left, began to work on Mr. and Mrs. Jones. Smoke began to fill the room, and Blaine crouched to stay out of it as long as possible.

"Hold your breath!" he yelled. They all did, as long as they could, but the knots were tight and the fire was spreading quickly. One by one, the hostages' heads lolled forward as they fainted. Blaine crouched even lower, knowing they were next if they stayed much longer. It was hot, almost too hot for him to bear. The floor was burning his knees through his jeans and sweat poured off his entire body, soaking him head to toe.

"Come _on, _Blaine!" he vaguely registered the other Warblers screaming at him as they freed the others and ran. Still, he kept at it. Kurt wasn't going to die because of him. _No one_ was going to die because of him.

Finally, _finally, _the knots fell open, the ropes tumbled off, and Kurt sagged forward into Blaine's arms. He lifted the boy over his shoulder and ran. He ignored the fire melting his shoes and burning his shirt. He ignored the unbearable pain in his knees and the fire in his lungs from holding his breath. He ignored the yelling of the sheriff as he burst through the front door. All he could see was Kurt. He ripped the gag off Kurt's face and leaned his to the other boy's mouth, listening for his shallow breathing. It was there, and he nearly passed out from the relief he felt at this realization. He barely noticed David and the others reviving the Jones's next to him, and the sheriff screaming at them to stand up, to release their hostages. He just held Kurt tighter, rocking his thin body gently, pressing his lips to the top of his head. He didn't notice the tears rolling down his cheeks until a soft, slender hand reached up to brush them off.

"Blaine?" Kurt croaked. Blaine jerked back in surprise, staring into Kurt's perfect blue eyes. "Blaine, why are you-?" he stopped, his body shaking with a fit of coughing. Blaine's heart twisted at the sound. He held Kurt closer, hushing him.

"Shhh. Don't talk. You're okay," he whispered shakily.

"Blaine," Kurt whispered hoarsely anyway. "You saved me?" He had to know.

Blaine nodded, the tears falling harder. "I had to."

Kurt smiled weakly. "That's the thing, though. You didn't." Blaine's answer seemed to have satisfied him, and he closed his eyes and nuzzled closer to the Warbler's chest. Blaine clung to him, clutching at the other boy like Kurt had saved him and not the other way around.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry. I love you, I love you so much."

Finn had tried to get Blaine to let go of his brother, but something stopped him after the first few tries. Something in the way the other boy held Kurt so tightly, the way he kissed his forehead and whispered things to him like they were..._lovers _or something. By now, a crowd had gathered, watching the group of Warblers tend to the family they'd saved. Their eyes were drawn to one in particular, a certain curly-haired boy holding another chestnut-haired boy, looking at him like he was the world.

* * *

><p>Wes and the Warblers that had followed him arrived at the shed late afternoon, meeting the other Warblers there. Wes knelt in front of the chest, touching the wood like it was an old friend he'd been missing, caressing.<p>

"Where's Blaine?" one of the Warblers asked. Wes's eyes never left the chest.

"He's gone. Betrayed us."

"You're lying!" someone yelled suddenly. It was Thad, an accusing finger pointed right at Wes. Wes glanced up. "Blaine stayed behind to _save _the family that _you _were going to kill!"

There were a few disapproving mutters.

"I had to!" Wes growled. "This was the only way to get what we've wanted. You wanted it too, Thad, and I don't see you staying behind to save some family that doesn't even matter. They're nothing. And if you could just see that, perhaps you'd appreciate what we have now." He placed a hand on the chest. "We got what we wanted all along, Thad. Why are you worrying?"

"Blaine and Jeff and Nick and David are all Warblers, Wes. Whether you say they are or not, they're always Warblers. And you left them to die. That's not what Warblers do."

"Thad. The _chest." _Wes was grasping, his hands closing around air as his argument began to show its weakness. The other Warblers were exchanging looks, realizing that Wes had nearly committed murder, and they were part of it. Guilty by association.

"Somebody grab him!" a Warbler screamed. Three ran forward, grabbing his arms and pinning them behind his back. He struggled, yelling.

"I'm your _leader! __I made the Warblers what they are! You can't do this!" _Thad stepped forward.

"Wes, you made the Warblers murderers, and that _isn't _what we're about. This group was born from desperation, and we can't be desperate anymore." He looked up. "All of you. Listen. The Warblers can't be thieves and ruffians anymore. Blaine and the others showed us something today, and that's that we can do _good. _I think it's time the Warblers hung up the chest chasing and tried to actually make something of themselves."

A few rolled their eyes. "Thad, a Warbler by any other name is still a thief," Wes said. He'd stopped struggling and was oddly calm. "Stop these delusions of grandeur. You can't do anything, none of us can. What we do is steal. And that's all we're good for. Get used to it. Now let me go, so I can open the chest."

"No, Wes. Don't do this. We can _change." _

__"Leave, then, if you're so keen,"Wes hissed impatiently. "I'm tired of you and your _change." _

__Thad lifted his chin and nodded once, hard. "Fine. Who's with me?" There was a moment's hesitation, then a third of the Warblers stepped nervously forward. There was a chorus of yelling and booing.

"All of you, then?" Wes said quietly. "After all I did for you?"

Thad turned on his heel and walked out, the others following.

"You'll never be a Warbler again, you hear me? _Never!" _he yelled after them. Not a single one looked back. Wes turned back to the chest.

"Finally," he sighed. "Now that we've weeded out the bad eggs. Let's open this, shall we?"

The other Warblers circled around curiously; they would finally, _finally, _discover what was in the chest.

"Feast your eyes, gentlemen...on our future." With a flourish, Wes unlocked the chest and threw the lid open.

Inside...there was only a slip of paper. A note. Wes lifted it slowly, disbelievingly, out of the chest.

"What's it say?"

"It's a fake."

* * *

><p><em><em>Kurt opened his eyes to a sea of curly hair. It could only belong to one person, kneeling by his bed.

"Blaine?" he croaked. His voice was hoarse, and talking grated at his throat. The curly head shot up, revealing hazel eyes red with crying and lack of sleep. The dark circles under his eyes were even darker. He looked awful. And...sad. Kurt hated to see those eyes so sad.

"Kurt?" Blaine reached out, his hand stroking the side of Kurt's face. "How do you feel?"

Kurt laughed, which hurt. "Horrible." Blaine leaned his forehead on Kurt's, threading one hand into his hair.

"I'm so sorry."

"It's okay."

"No...for everything. I'm sorry I yelled at you, I'm sorry I was terrible to you, I'm sorry I tried to forget you and that you almost died because of me. I'm sorry that I hurt you, and I'm sorry that I couldn't be what you needed." Tears started falling again; they had been all night long, since he'd carried Kurt up to his room and Finn had left them alone. He barely remembered Finn even existing. Why wasn't he in jail? Why had Finn let him stay? "I'm sorry I'm not the man you deserve."

A soft hand fluttered against his cheek. "Blaine. Shh." A thumb brushed away his tears. "Blaine, you're more than I deserve. You're more than I ever expected to have."

"I love you," Blaine whispered. "I'm so sorry."

"Shhh," Kurt hushed him again. "I love you too."

They stayed like that for a few moments, drinking in each other's company. Blaine's tears subsided and were replaced with soft sighs and the occasional brush of gentle fingers against skin.

"Blaine..." Kurt said softly. Blaine hummed in response. "I have to ask...why_?" _

"Why what?"

"Why...everything? Why did you try to forget? Why did you become the leader of the Warblers? Why did you keep stealing?"

Blaine closed his eyes, thinking. Composing himself. "I...It...It was too hard to remember. It hurt too much, and I wasn't strong enough to keep going. I just...shut myself off. And everything just spiraled from there. I didn't care about anything anymore. I just followed what I knew we had to do. I started planning; it distracted me. I couldn't think about you. I couldn't love you from so far away. It...I thought it was what was best. I didn't think there was any hope for us. There was no point in me remembering."

"And...now?" Kurt whispered.

"Now...now I think I'll do anything to be able to stay with you." Blaine pressed his lips softly to Kurt's, leaning into his touch. "Now, I'm just...so sorry for everything. I want to start over. I want...I want _you. _Forever."

Kurt smiled, his eyes falling shut in relief and bliss. "I'll see what I can do."

* * *

><p>Finn was a fair sheriff. He'd known the second those Warblers had stayed behind, risked their lives to save that family, that there was some good in them. He didn't arrest them. He decided to give them a choice. They could leave, return to their criminal life and risk being caught. Or, they could stay, and Finn would help set them up with jobs here and help clear their names. The sheriff's office, for example, always needed extra hands. It wouldn't be easy after all the things they'd done, but with hard work and time, anything was possible. Consider it their community service, he told them. If they put one toe out of line, however, it was straight to jail for them. No second chances. This <em>was <em>their second chance. A reform program, one might say.

It was a simple choice. Finn spoke with Mayor Figgins and set them up with temporary rooms at the inn untill they could afford to rent a place. Most didn't agree with Finn's generosity, and it _was _hard, in the beginning, to get people to trust them. But they had the Jones's on their side, and the Jones's were a fairly influential family in the town. It didn't take long for the people of McKinley to get used to them, even befriend them.

The empty chest, the ones the Warblers had stolen, was a decoy. The Jones's had known the second they realized the Warblers were stealing again that they needed to prepare extra precautions. They set up the decoy, spread rumors as if they were true. The checkpoints, the destination of the chest, everything was real...except the actual chest. The real chest was placed inside a larger, less elegant one and thrown almost carelessly on the back of a supply wagon later that day. A diamond in the rough. The key would work on both, ensuring that the Warblers didn't return until after they discovered the fake chest. They would be back, the Jones's knew. But they had fewer people now, and their best schemer was now on the opposite side. They were prepared.

As for the other Warblers, the ones who were neither entirely good nor entirely bad, they lay low for several months. Gradually, they began to reveal themselves, slowly doing good for people. Anonymously at first, then more obviously. Soon it became almost normal to find a Warbler or two swooping in, perhaps to solve something as small as a bar fight, or something as big as a fire. They appeared out of seemingly nowhere, and never asked for any compensation. They lived off their leftover stolen goods, and when those ran out, they did odd jobs under fake names and identities. Their faces were less well-known; the public mostly knew Wes and Blaine from the papers and wanted posters. Eventually, their good deeds earned them money, and they began to insinuate themselves into public life.

* * *

><p>"Kurt," Blaine whispered. He kissed his lover's eyelids, softly, until they fluttered open. He smiled. "You promised you'd stay awake."<p>

"I guess I didn't," Kurt whispered back, grinning and stretching. "You're late."

"Had to wait till Finn went to bed. Wouldn't want him to see me sneaking in your window like some sort of _thief." _He winked, slipping out of his shirt and joining Kurt under the sheets.

"We can't keep doing this, you know," Kurt yawned noncommittally. "Eventually we'll get caught."

Blaine nuzzled at his neck, wrapping Kurt up in his arms. "I'll tell them it was an accident."

Kurt closed his eyes, his eyelashes brushing Blaine's bare chest. "You should just stay the whole night. Let them catch us."

"That would just take all the fun out of this, wouldn't it, now?" he murmured, his lips brushing Kurt's. Kurt trailed a hand down Blaine's chest, feeling the muscles jump under his touch.

"Please, this will _always _be fun," he whispered, rolling on top of Blaine to kiss him more fully on the lips. He rocked his hips against Blaine's, sighing.

"I love you," Blaine breathed against his lips.

"I love you too."

* * *

><p>END.<p>

AHHHH. Okay. I hope it wasn't too abrupt. O.o I ALSO HOPE IT WASN'T TOO CHEESY AND THAT THE LOOSE ENDS WEREN'T TIED UP TOO QUICKLY OR EASILY. OH MY GOD I'M SO UNSURE ABOUT THIS CHAPTER IT ISN'T EVEN FUNNY.

I'm not sure if I can live without these characters. I like them a little too much. They're both just so attractive as cowboys.

As for the chest and what's in it...I never decided. I know some people will get really mad about that...leave a comment about what you think is in the chest? Maybe I'll edit and add it in somewhere or make an extra one-shot about it. Something like that. I know, I hate when stories leave stuff hanging, but I did my best to tie everything ELSE up.

GAH. I have no idea what fic will happen next or if I'll just write one-shots for the rest of my life, but, again, I hope you'll stick around, and thank you so much for reading this through to the end.

You're all amazing, and I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did.

3 3 3


End file.
